


Growing Pains

by LadyStoic



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anger, Confusion, Cuddling & Snuggling, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Growing Up, Guilty Pleasures, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Masturbation, Puberty, Romance, Sexual Tension, Spoilers, Stupid Solas, Young Love, what is love?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-14
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-07 14:32:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 26,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3176122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyStoic/pseuds/LadyStoic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cole works through becoming more human and finding love in its most basic form.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Poetic? Maybe.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angry Cole is scary Cole. Also, my inquisitor is a red haired, green eyed hippie. Enjoy!<3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only came here for smut? Skip to Chapters 15 and 19 but don't forget to leave a comment ;D  
> Oh and don't forget to find me on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/ladystoic)!

Solas… That name brought me only tears and clenched fists as I walked through the gardens of Skyhold. I fingered the developing leaves of an embrium plant in thought, wiped a stray tear away, and continued my morning ritual. I would not let him ruin this for me as well.

I developed a deep love and appreciation for all things green when I was very young and as such gave no extra thought to extending the gardens. It didn’t stop at the garden however, and every balcony spilled rashvine and arbor’s blessing. Every nook and cranny sported elfroot, embrium, and amrita vein. My own bedchamber was filled exclusively with crystal grace, the icy-blue petals of which reminded me of a certain dusty blond rogue. I blushed at the thought and continued on my route, making sure all plants had the proper amount of water. No one heard the sweet nothings I whispered to my babies or the joy I felt when I came upon a flowering embrium.

I had always found Cole handsome despite his awkwardness; warmth filled my belly when I thought of him and yet I chose to acknowledge my feelings for Solas. I shook my head sadly; _we see where that got me…_

I sighed delicately and stared in the direction of the main hall. When Solas offered to remove my vallaslin I kindly refused. His face had filtered through emotions quickly, settled on somber, and seconds later he tore my heart to pieces and left me standing in a painfully beautiful grove, filled with the vegetation I held so dear. After his form had disappeared from view I sat next to a large weeping willow and wept. Poetic? Maybe. _“Harden your heart to a cutting edge,”_ my ass. The break up still sucked the air out of me.

The third night after my heartbreak Cole silently walked into my room and slipped under the covers behind me. I stiffened, not knowing what he wanted, but he just awkwardly placed a hand on my shoulder and rubbed reassuringly. I fell asleep immediately.

Since then he had refused to sleep anywhere but in my bed. Recently, though, he was far too busy dealing with the more mundane side of humanity to pay much attention to anything else. His negative reaction to some aspects came as no surprise but what confused many was his developed distaste for leathers. Another odd thing was that, Cole, for some strange reason, could only stomach red meat when it was covered in a smoky sauce and cooked nearly to a crisp. Blech.

I awoke alone this morning to a soft knock on my door, Cole’s spot beside me still warm. He often left before I woke up, either to use the privy for the umpteenth time or steal bread from the kitchens. Now that he actually had to, that man never stopped eating and had developed a taste for sourdough bread and anything sweet.

Slightly confused, I opened the door to find Josephine standing awkwardly behind it. I had completely forgotten about our little ‘date’, the once a week gossip meetings, and I rubbed the morning dust from my eyes while I led her to the balcony. I stood with my hands on the railing and breathed in the crisp morning air. Josephine immediately began her usual tirade of gossip while I listened absentmindedly, stretched, and basked in the warmth of the rising sun.

She continued for a while; I nodding or interjecting when appropriate and was in the middle of explaining how Lelliana had taken care of the contract on her life when we both heard a loud gasp followed by a shrill scream that erupted seemingly from behind my closed bedroom door.

It was then that Cole burst into my room in just his hat.

Josephine shrieked, covered her eyes with her hands, and whirled around as if to shield herself from a monster. I couldn’t help the giggle that forced its way out of my throat at the scene before me.

Cole stood stark naked in the middle of the room and yelled vehemently at someone who stood in the threshold. I walked through the double doors to get a closer look and came upon a very flustered and pink-eared Solas.

Solas tried again, “Cole…”

“I refuse to wear them any longer!” Cole spat venomously, tracing small circles in the carpet as he paced the room head down, arms crossed against his pale chiseled chest.

Solas remained strangely calm, “Fine, if you will not wear them you must wear something else. You cannot walk around with nothing.”

“I have my hat. _Binding_ , _battered, beaten, sticking to glistening skin, little blades clawing every inch._ ” Cole scratched the skin on his arms frantically before he wrapped them defiantly around his middle, “I will not--”

I had heard enough to understand what was going on and Josephine’s shriek were starting to hurt my ears. I interjected, “Cole?”

He deflated a little at the sound of my voice but still only glanced in my direction, lips held in a thin line, icy blue eyes glazed over in frustration. I tried to keep my eyes focused on his face, “Could you cover yourself with your hat so that Josephine can _please_ leave the room?”

Cole seemed to snap out of his trance as he glanced over at Josephine, who peaked at him through the hands still plastered on her face. He grabbed his hat, covered his private bits, and stalked away from the door to let Josephine leave. Solas silently shut the door behind her. It was awkward with just the three of us in the same room and I found it difficult to even look at him.

It was then I noticed the death glares Cole gave him and I could have slapped myself for not noticing sooner. “Solas, I think you need to--”

“He cares for you but he walked away _,_ ” Cole whispered fiercely, muted anger clear on his face, “ _abandoned, alone, should I have said yes?_ ” For a second his eyes glazed over as he read the tension in the room but it was quickly replaced by a sneer.

I tried to reach for him, “Cole—“

“Get out!” I cringed away from Cole only to notice his attention was solely on Solas, “she hurts because of you. Selfish, solitary, you only bring her sadness. Get. Out.” The last was spat through clenched teeth.

This side of Cole both frightened and intrigued me. I had only seen his anger one other time, that fateful day when I decided Cole’s happiness was far more important than Solas’ comfort.

Solas caught my gaze, and I quickly had to look away; the barely concealed hurt in his eyes stung. “Solas, please go,” he heard the plea in my voice and turned away, slowly opening the door and disappearing behind it. I let out a breath I didn’t know I held and turned to face Cole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're having trouble seeing angry Cole just watch this vid [Making Cole More Human](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LblkszOa4eM). He's pretty scary :X


	2. So Cute it Hurts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me if this is getting boring!

I slowly walked up to his form as he paced and tried to grab his attention without actually touching him. He was usually predictable but as he painfully became more human every day his testosterone levels fluctuated greatly; even the sweetest of men had a temper and exhibited the possibility of violence. I knew that all too well.

Eventually I stood in front of him and blocked his path. He looked up briefly and seemed to steel himself for something. He quickly closed the gap between us, wrapped his arms around my waist, and pulled me into an awkward embrace, my face smooshed against his broad chest. I began to shake uncontrollably; I hadn’t noticed how much his sudden outburst of anger frightened me. I breathed his scent in deeply in an attempt to calm myself and couldn’t help but notice how his natural musk was mixed faintly with Dorian’s cologne. Curious…

“I scared you,” the hitch in Cole’s voice pulled at my heart strings.

“It’s ok…”

“It’s not ok. I don’t want to hurt you. I help take hurt away...” I looked up at the sadness and regret in his voice. His eyes were shut tight, brows knitted together in pain. I managed to free a hand and brought it between us to cup his check in my palm. He had such a strong chiseled jaw, only noticeable when really close; such a handsome face.

He must have sensed my admiration because his features softened and I saw the faintest of smiles ghost his lips. Those lips looked so soft; _I wonder how they’d feel against my own._ I feathered a thumb over them and heard his breath hitch, this time in surprise. He slowly opened his eyes and those icy blue orbs sliced right through me. “You feel better…” he pondered aloud, his tone that of wonder. He cautiously brought his face down to mine and touched his nose to my own. I giggled at the adorable gesture and attempted to look down at my feet…

And that was when I remembered he was completely and hopelessly naked. I was so caught up in his presence that I completely forgot his state of dress. I turned beet red, the blush creept so far as the tips of my ears, and I froze in his arms. “Um, Cole, you’re still naked,”

“Yes.”

“Aren’t you cold?” I tried to make it less embarrassing than how it really felt by being logical.

He seemed to think about it for a few seconds, arms still wrapped tightly around my waist, “I might be… but I can’t wear my old clothes.”

I remembered his earlier reaction, how he had scratched frantically at his arms, and it finally dawned on me, “Cole you must be allergic to nug leather!”

“Is that a good thing?”

“No,” I chuckled and managed to escape his embrace. I hastily grabbed the blanket off the end of my bed and draped it around his shoulders. “I think that’s why you were scratching; the nug leather must itch and irritate your skin.” I silently wondered if that was also why his complexion had become so sallow and blemished in certain areas. He must have only noticed it when he became more human.

“I’ll have to make you new armor and have Dorian fetch you some new undergarments and daily clothes.”

Cole just beamed a smile in my direction and nodded. Sometimes he was so cute it hurt.

\----

When I asked Dorian to help he merely regarded me with a raised eyebrow, “It’s about damn time, that poor boy has suffered long enough under those rags.” I, for once, couldn’t agree more with him.

What I had a difficult time agreeing with were Dorian’s choices for an undergarment. He foremost suggested Cole wear nothing at all, so as to ‘free the boys’. He found my exasperated expression surprising and instead settled on buying him some made of dark red silk, clearly from Val Royeaux, as well as a thin black silk button up and matching black pants. When Cole came to bed one day wearing the aforementioned attire I couldn’t help the heat that engulfed my face.

The shirt hugged his frame like a second skin, showing off his rippled pecs and trim waist, while the sleeves billowed out to give his wide muscled arms room to breathe. The pants were my favorite. Cole had always had strong thick legs, a result no doubt of his constant ‘crouch and pounce’ tactics in battle; the pants hid nothing. The black silk wrapped around his thighs and fully outlined the bulge between his legs. I hastily looked away, desire clouded my vision. _What is WRONG with me?!  
_

My train of thought was interrupted by an annoyed ‘harrumph’ from Cole. I looked over to see him as he struggled to get his shirt off. It took him a while to realize when it was proper to undress himself and I managed to ‘train’ him to do so before we lay down for the night. I had almost forgotten his inexperience with buttons, yet I watched him evilly for a few more seconds before I came to the rescue. The relief on his face was evident, “I thought I would never get out!” I giggled, led him to the bed, and laid my back against the bed frame. I motioned for him to lay down with his head in my lap; I needed to calm myself. Tomorrow would be a very stressful day and I didn’t want this night to end. I lazily played with the pale blond strands of his hair and attempted to braid them. The last thing I remember before I drifted off to sleep was Cole’s contented sigh.


	3. Didn't Even Flinch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sneaky sneaky!

I woke up alone curled in the fetal position with a large pile of drool on my pillow. I snorted in amusement, wiped my face with my sleeve, and gracefully tripped over my own feet getting out of bed. Sexy.

 _If this morning is any consolation, today is going to suck._ I thought absentmindedly as I picked myself up off the floor. I quickly dressed into my light scout armor, ran a brush through my hair, and checked the crystal grace sprout I had on the balcony. There were at least four new buds starting to peak open and I smiled in delight. _I am soo weird…_ I thought as I shook my head and walked to the door.

I bounded down the stairs with my fingers crossed. Maybe this morning I would be able to snag a blueberry muffin from the kitchens. As I neared the door however I heard a muffled yell and before I had time to react the door burst open. Cole nearly mowed over me but with his quick reflexes caught me before my ass hit the ground. I stood next to him, still reeling from the shock of it all, and he looked at me with the guiltiest expression I’ve ever seen. “Cole, what did you…“ He just smiled sheepishly, his mouth full of cookies, and jumped when one of the voices from earlier came closer, his eyes wide. He closed his mouth quickly and bolted out the door. Some cookies fell from his pockets as he ran. He bolted around the corner and disappeared; the chef never had any hope of catching up to him, although he could have followed the crumb trail Cole left in his wake.

I stared at the chef’s back with a stupid grin on my face but had to stifle a laugh because he had given up on chasing Cole and whipped around to yell at me.

“That little brat has stolen more cookies, muffins, and bread than I can count! You better do something before I start placing traps around my kitchen!” Spittle flew from his mouth and a vein bulged in his neck. I nodded, wide-eyed, and made a mental note to have a talk with Cole later. I swear, he may have the body of a man but he had the stomach and sweet tooth of a boy. I shook my head affectionately, swiftly grabbed a muffin behind the chef’s back, and high tailed it out of there. If I told Cole anything it would be to use his stealth ability and steal small quantities. That’s what I did and it hadn’t failed me yet… _I am a_ terrible _influence._

            -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I lounged sideways in one of the chairs in the library and took a bite of muffin. Dorian was sat in a chair next to me so that my feet dangled precariously close to his book. Whenever he would turn a page he’d look up absentmindedly and swirl his wine glass around a few times before he hastened a sip. I took advantage of such moments to flip the page back or forwards with my toe. I stared at him devilishly when his face scrunched up in confusion. I forced my face to calm and stared at my muffin in innocence when he finally looked up, “Would you please!”

“What?” I feigned surprise.

“You know very well of what I’m talking about. You’ve very nearly ruined the best part!” Mocked annoyance; we played this game all the time.

“You’re on page 2! I couldn’t have ruined anything yet.” I couldn’t help my giggle. Damn it. I already lost.

He smiled triumphantly at my poor excuse of acting. “Dreary, what is it that you want from me? I can’t imagine you merely desire my radiant company, no matter how handsome or charming that company may be,” he poked fun at Vivienne’s pet name AND complimented himself in the same breath. This man was something else.

“Would you like to explain why Cole smells like you? Well, smells like your cologne?” I got right to the point.

“And why would I do that? I much rather like watching you squirm under the possibilities.” He waggled his eyebrows at me and swirled his wine glass again, a smirk plastered firmly on his handsome face.

I eyed him suspiciously, took another bite of muffin and chewed it slowly, “mhm...” I wasn’t in the mood to jest about this. Sensing I wouldn’t take the bait Dorian sighed dramatically, “It seems as though our little… Cole, has a crush. He, not surprisingly, came to me for advice.” He took a sip of wine and continued, “I had no idea how to help him with such a thing so I gave him a small bottle of my cologne.”

My eyes narrowed even further, “So what you’re telling me is Cole came to you for relationship advice and you gave him some of your cologne?”

“That about sums it up, yes.”

I shook my head. Dorian had gone back to reading the book in his lap but stopped when he noticed how I stared at him. “What?” genuine surprise this time.

“You could always go out with him and get cologne that he would enjoy the smell of.” _Or that I would enjoy,_ I added silently.

He set the wineglass down to steeple his fingers in thought and returned my stare. He must have read my thoughts because he sat back farther in his chair, eyes narrowed impishly and whispered, “curious,” under his breath.

My face grew hot, “what?!”

“Oh nothing, dreary. Just a delicious little thought. Do go about your day, I’m ready to leave whenever you are.” He still had that ridiculous smirk on his face. He looked so… Dorian.

“Um… ok. Well, we’re leaving in 5 hours.” I stood up awkwardly. “Er… see ya!” I waved and practically tripped down the stairs. _Why was I so embarrassed about my feelings for Cole? Did everyone expect me to pine away about Solas for the rest of my life?! At least Cole was only 3-4 years older rather than 10…_

I hadn’t noticed where I was until I ran smack into a wall. Or at least it felt like a wall. Solas. Damn it, in my mental tirade I failed to take my usual ‘avoid-Solas-at-all-costs’ route out of the rotunda. There was no way to avoid confrontation this time.

“Inquisitor?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took longer than usual to update. I had a sort of... medical emergency and I've been in a lot of pain/unable to do much for a few days. I'm recovering nicely but chapters will continue to update slowly. 
> 
> I hope everyone is enjoying this fic as much as I am :D


	4. Walls Don't Talk

Our break up was difficult; it took me by surprise and as such I continued to have mixed feelings. I knew that I felt betrayed, angry, upset, and confused; betrayed and angry because I had never fallen for someone as hard as I fell for Solas and he practically willed my feelings away. Was it that easy for him to forget what we had? Did he ever HAVE feelings for me? I was upset and confused because I couldn’t figure out if it was my fault. Did I push too hard? Come off as too desperate? Insult him by refusing to have my vallaslin removed? There were so many questions afterwards and he chose to answer none of them. He seemed annoyed and angry, his nose scrunched and brows knitted tightly together. I didn’t understand. _What did I ever do to you?_

I backed up quickly and looked up at him with something akin to sorrow plastered on my pale face. His expression guarded, a look I was all too familiar with lately; only a peaked eyebrow any indication of emotion.

“Hi,” it came out more defeated and pathetic than I had wanted it to. I twiddled my thumbs and stared at his chest, watched as it rose and fell, breath even.

“Can I help you with something?” That eyebrow traveled farther into his forehead. Never any time for pleasantries; I let it hurt only a little.

I had briefly glanced at his face when he spoke but couldn’t bear to look at him anymore. Instead I chose to stare at his jawbone necklace. It looked surprisingly like a wolf’s jaw. Weird.

Then a thought slithered its way through my mind. _Could Solas have feelings for another? A beautiful middle-aged elf with no vallaslin?_

“I was just on my way out, sorry to have bothered you,” rushed out on a single breath. I silently cringed at how suspicious I sounded and started to walk away when I felt a hand gently grab my arm. I wrenched out of his grasp and stared at him. “Solas, please, leave me alone,” I begged, mossy green eyes wide.

His expression softened, mouth opened as if to say something but he stopped himself. His face returned to its usual mask and he nodded.

I was so confused and angry at the possibility that tears made silent tracks down my face. I took one last look at him and walked away. Out of the corner of my eye I could have sworn I saw his mask disappear to be briefly replaced by heart wrenching sorrow.

\----

I ran back to my bedchambers and fell onto the bed with a _whoosh_ of air. I grabbed a pillow, smashed it against my face, and screamed.

What the hell was I to do with myself? I threw the pillow across the room and it hit the wall with an ‘oof’ noise. Wait. Walls don’t ‘oof’.

I hesitated; eyebrows knitted together, and hazarded a look from a pathetic fetal position. Cole bent to grab the pillow I had violated him with. I blushed, partly from shame and partly from embarrassment. I had stopped wondering about his random appearances a while ago. He still somehow knew when I was distressed even though ‘outside feelings’ were muted now.

He smiled and his face lit up as he did so, “We leave in three hours, right? I wanted to make sure.”

I had collected myself enough to nod and beckoned for him to come closer. He wasn’t one to forget anything but I shrugged it off. I would take a nap with this adorable young man if it was the last thing I did. He seemed to sense what I wanted and he kicked his shoes off and placed his battered old hat on the nightstand. I smiled when he lay down and rested my head over his heart. His free arm came around to play with the silky red tresses that fell across his chest and I fell asleep to the scent of campfire and the soft thud of his heart.

\----

For reason unbeknownst to many, I took Solas along with me to the Emerald Graves. I told myself it was because of his uncanny knack for finding elvhen artifacts. I also made it my mission to avoid any sad or depressing thoughts. Cole’s friendship with Solas strained and he was torn between comforting Solas or I. It was quite obvious who he leaned toward more.

We arrived early at camp; the sun lazed away low in the sky. I slowly breathed in the fresh air and watched it glitter through the trees. Greens, blues, and yellows persisted throughout the forest, made ethereal by the pinks and reds of the sun as it rose. The view from our camp was breathtaking; it made one never want to return to the harsh gray and white of Skyhold.

Solas busied himself with making sure that everyone had their own supply of regeneration, rock armor, and jar of bees and I watched his jaw bone necklace swing as he made his way around the camp. The clang and whistle of clashing steel brought emerald eyes forward to wonder at the terrifyingly beautiful sight of the assassin in action.

They both used dulled practice blades but it still sent a twinge of worry down my spine. The last thing the team needed was an injury and yet I couldn’t tear my eyes away or yell to stop them…

Cole gracefully twirled and strafed seemingly weightless around the larger man. At one point he deftly scored a few blows, three dull thuds, across the Iron Bull’s torso and then catapulted himself off the Qunari’s weapon to land safely out of reach of a counterattack. He was marvelous and frightening, and I watched the lean corded muscle of his thighs bunch tightly under his armor as he braced himself to jump.

True to his name The Iron Bull charged forward with his head lowered menacingly and a two-handed weapon dragging slightly behind; Cole crouched low, icy blue eyes hidden beneath his hat. I held my breath as the seconds dragged on while he made no movement. I was about to yell in warning…

Fast as lightning he sprang upwards and flipped over the charging bull. Before well-worn boots hit the ground he threw a hand out to prod the back of the larger man’s knees to make him fall down with a grunt when his knees instinctively buckled.

I could only stare open-mouthed in surprise. That display of control and agility made everyone look like bumbling drunks and I cursed good-naturedly under my breath.

A faint smile had tugged at the corners of Cole’s mouth and I had to stifle a shiver at how eerily attractive it made him look. Haunted blue eyes locked on my face and I had to look away. I caught sight of a bald head and for a split second thought I saw jealousy grace the older man’s features. When I looked again he had turned to face the sun, his back to me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any suggestions? Critiques? Typos? Any character's you'd like to see? I appreciate any and all comments. They are food for the soooooul!


	5. Shameless Pervert

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The banter between Bull and Solas is directly from Bioware

Our missions always started out well enough but tended to disintegrate whenever there was any mention of the Qun. Solas would heatedly explain his disdain for Iron Bull’s people while Bull failed (in Solas’ opinion) to justify their beliefs.

“Surely, even _you_ see, Iron Bull, that freedom is preferable to mindless obedience to the Qun.” Solas seethed and nimbly hopped over a fallen tree trunk. Bull carelessly walked over it with arms crossed.

“How so? Last I checked our mages weren’t burning down Par Vollen.”

Solas spat back, “you think Orlais and Ferelden would be better off under Qunari rule?” I couldn’t stand it when they bickered. Solas sounded equally smug and incredulous and at one point I may have found his passion and intelligence exhilarating. Today it was merely exhausting.

I made a frustrated sound and walked away from the group but stayed close enough to interrupt if necessary. I shuffled pale bare feet through the grass and sighed. Elfroot had made its home in this beautiful green wonderland and I couldn’t help but smile. I picked diligently, careful not to damage the rest of the plant as only the leaves were necessary for potions. I pinched each brilliant green leaf off where it met the stem and tucked them away for later. There was a lull in the conversation and I came closer to the group to eavesdrop.

Bull had stopped talking and watched the ground as he walked. I took it as an opportunity to stare. He was just so… massive. I had always wanted to touch his horns or hang something from them but stopped for fear of being accidentally impaled. He really DID look like a bull. His face was chiseled but very different than Cole’s. Cole’s face was hard lines and defined features but it was soft. He didn’t have rough facial hair but peach fuzz, short blonde hairs across his cheeks and around his mouth. They were only noticeable when really close and it was one of the things I adored about him. As an elf I had very little body hair and had to get used to seeing it on other people. I was strangely grateful that Cole had very little. Did that make me shallow? I had no idea.

Compared to Cole, Bull seemed to be carved out of rock. Sera described his ears as ‘elfy lookin’ but not too ‘elfy’, he had a downward pointed nose, a harsh jaw line covered in dark stubble, and small scars littered everywhere. His obsidian black horns protruded behind thick temples while his left eye remained concealed behind a metal patch. Bull never wore a shirt and as such his large muscled chest remained for the most part bare at all times. He appeared solemn and lost in thought. It was the first time I had seen him display an emotion other than serious determination in a while and I grew bolder by the minute. The silence eventually became too much.

“Bull, can I touch your horns?”

Solas looked at me as if _I_ had sprouted a set of horns. I looked away sheepishly and mumbled, “I was just curio—“ the words were lost to the wind when I was grabbed unceremoniously around the waist and lifted. I yelped and tried to struggle out of Bull’s grip but his hands were so large the fingers nearly touched. He picked me up as if I weighed no more than a leaf and I somehow made it atop his shoulders, gripping his head with thin arms in panic. He stopped abruptly and I jerked forward into his neck from the momentum. I nearly doubled over his head and hissed out a breath (from pleasure or pain I couldn’t say). I felt him chuckle as my arms were gently removed from his face.

“I couldn’t see and thought it best to stop before we hit something,” his neck was warm against my groin and I blushed at how close his head was. Bull started to walk again and without anything else to hang on to I grabbed a horn in each hand. They were surprisingly warm and smooth to the touch. I scratched at a thin vein-like divot in the left horn and felt Bull rumble, a laugh in his deep voice, “I can feel that, you know.”

I stopped, “Oh, sorry.”

We continued to walk for bit, headed towards one of the many camps we were instructed to establish. Solas had his head down in thought, his pale face very near expressionless. When we traveled he wore his battle mage armor and I silently admired how well it fit his frame. Some mages preferred robes but I felt he performed (and looked) best in light armor. The armor was hand crafted for him from when we first met and I refused to let him wear anything else. It took forever to make and it was so decked out with extra protection there was nothing that surpassed it yet. I stared at the back of his pale bald head in thought. _I really don’t want to confront him_. Besides, it’s not like he ever left his room and when he did it was to travel with me. _I’m being pathetic. And paranoid. Even if he did have feelings for someone else, why do I care? Ugh._ I was doing it again! _No sad feelings. Don’t upset Cole._ I counted for as long as I could to distract myself. It didn’t work very well.

I grew bored and absentmindedly rubbed the spot on Bull’s left horn with a thumb and again felt him rumble. He said nothing however and I couldn’t help but giggle, _it sounded like he was purring!_ Not in the way a cat purrs but deeper and guttural; almost like a grinding noise. I giggled furiously when it got louder. I stopped touching it. The noise stopped as well and I felt him attempt to turn his head to look at me. “How did you do that?” he sounded incredulous and a little breathless (but I might have just imagined that last part).

“Do what?” I replied innocently.

He growled, “You know what I mean.”

“You mean this?” I rubbed the spot slowly with my palm and it started again.

This time Cole laughed, a sweet fluttery noise, “You sound like a cat, like the ones that swat at my feet even when no one can see me.”

“Does it feel weird when I do that?” I asked but didn’t expect to be answered.

“’Werid’ wouldn’t be the adjective I’d use to describe it. I feel pressure in my groin but the noise comes from my chest. You may want to stop that, _little_ _elf._ ”

I missed the danger laced in his words and continued to rub in thought, gliding my palm over the rough divot. It felt nice and smooth under my thumb; almost like a pearl.

He laughed, long and deep, and squatted briefly before he bounced back up. The small gesture caused my lithe body to rise and fall. I came back down and my crotch hit his neck. Another hiss escaped, this time clearly from pleasure, and the forest suddenly felt warmer. The wide-eyed surprise Solas wore was unfamiliar. He saw the crimson that permeated my face and I swear he smirked.

Bull pulled me down by the wrist and whispered, “Does our little elf prefer to take pleasure with pain?”

I sucked in a breath as his earlier comment finally made sense.

I tore my hands out of his grip so quickly that I nearly fell backwards. He laughed even louder. I remained on his shoulders for the rest of the journey but kept my hands far away from his horns. Bull was such a shameless pervert; he was enjoying this!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been debating on whether or not to write from Cole's perspective and I finally decided it was worth the risk (of totally screwing it up). The tense and/or POV may change because I feel as though Cole wouldn't refer to himself as I. He's waaay more descriptive. Again, a thank you to those who take the time to leave a comment!


	6. Shadows in the Night

Our group managed to establish two camps before we had to bunk down for the night. No one let it show but I knew they were exhausted and hungry. We walked for more miles (practically in silence) than I cared to count but stopped when it started to get brutally cold. I ran frozen hands up and down my sides quickly and shivered; the cold that laced the ground had begun to seep through despite the warmth from the fire.

The journey had been uneventful. The view from Bull’s shoulders proved to be peaceful, relaxing, and embarrassing and he hopped over fallen tree trunks (when I KNEW he could walk over them) until my butt was sore; most likely because of the uncontrollable squeaks he got in return. Jerk. On the positive side I didn’t eat dirt. Not even once! It didn’t take long for proof of the Inquisitor’s clumsiness to spread through Skyhold. I told them tree roots were known for grabbing Dalish ankles. No one believed me.

I watched the fire crackle and dance in the pale moonlight, temporarily mesmerized. The heat was pleasant where it touched but the areas left in darkness suffered from desperate cold. Pale moonlight filtered through the trees; the forest was peaceful, almost familiar in the brilliant sun but the moon created ripples of darkness and sound that could only be described as sinister.

I scooted closer to the fire. _I’m such a baby…_

“Is anyone else frosty?” Ugh, it was teeth-chattering cold. I shuddered noisily.

“It’s pretty damn cold,” Bull had pulled a large fur blanket across his shoulders earlier and he held it tightly closed across his chest.

Bull didn’t appear very happy. His brow and mouth were a harsh line as he looked down at his clasped hands. Was he pissed off at the cold? I stared at him (for more than I’d like to admit), brows arched in confusion, before it made sense; I giggled loudly when I saw the blanket ripple. At my outburst a hat-less messy blonde head poked out of the hole underneath his chin, a bashful grin, and I couldn’t help the unattractive snort that made its way out. I must have missed it when Cole snuggled up to sit on his lap. Bull once had mixed feelings about the ‘it’ that floated into our lives that one day in Haven (how he puts it) and it was nice to see how much more comfortable he felt now that Cole was more human. I smiled; happy to see the two of them get along. It was clear, however, that Bull’s patience only went so far.

I stared at the two of them; Cole looked like a little boy sitting in his lap. It was further proof how huge Bull was. I wondered briefly how pathetically small I appeared next to him. I was short for an elf and felt dwarfed even by Cole (who stood at least four inches taller). I suddenly felt very tiny and insignificant. Almost like an ant. An ant to be ignored under someone’s boot. _Iron Bull could totally squish me!_

I rapidly shook the thought off and brought my knees closer. The food was taking forever to cook because of the bitter cold. Cole had retreated farther into the blanket and a sour feeling invaded my stomach. _Was I jealous? Seriously?!_ I stubbornly decided that, yes, it was jealousy. Deep down there was a want for Cole to sit behind and cuddle me in a fur blanket. I felt like such a child sometimes. Before the guilt of such pathetic thoughts became a swallowing black pit the wind brought me back to reality. I looked at Solas’ tent and wondered if he was sleeping peacefully inside. He didn’t seem affected by the cold very much and continued to walk bare foot the whole time. Partway through our brief nighttime journey I had relented and covered frosty toes in wool-lined boots.

The cold began to sneak past leathers, flesh, and make its home snuggled around my tired bones. I got up and headed to an empty tent, growling stomach be damned. Hunger I could deal with. Toes and fingers falling off from frost bite… not so much. I debated whether or not to ask Cole to join me. It was almost ritualistic at this point to fall asleep to his heart beat and the feel of his calloused gentle hands as they played with the runaway strands of red hair on his chest. The thought elicited a random and unwanted image of Solas rubbing a finger over the beautiful bare face of another elven woman. Frozen hands clenched at the thought; c _hest feels tight, like the air seeks to betray my lungs. Fenedhis this hurts._ I let out a slow haggard breath in an attempt to gain control and hoped desperately Cole didn’t hear that near mental-breakdown. A hesitant look over at Bull revealed the fur blanket to be without a blond haired occupant. I hadn’t even heard him leave. _Maybe he left before my thoughts turned ugly?_ I could only hope.

The ground was hard and unforgiving and I couldn’t have gotten to the tent fast enough. I pulled the entrance flap aside and smiled. Most of the areas we traveled were rich with wildlife of all kinds; halla, nugs, bears and the occasional estranged wolf. Instead of a sleeping roll I much preferred the warmth of nature. Cole’s allergy meant I could no longer use nug leather to line the ground (it blocked the cold that seeped through the ground) and as such resorted to snoufleur leather. The next layer was Halla, and then the bear pelts were used as a cover. I sighed dreamily as boots finally came off and my butt hit the warm leathers. I buried my face in the soft black fur of the wolf pelt I scavenged two days earlier and breathed in deeply. Only mildly startling was the fact that it smelt like Cole. I reveled in it, rubbed a cheek desperately into the fabric. He must have stolen it in Skyhold. Cheeky little devil.

I heard Bull retire for the night as well. Apparently no one wanted to wait for the damn food to finish and the night grew quiet when he finally settled down. I nuzzled further into the soft pelt but then immediately froze.

There was a rustling outside the tent; a shadow too large to be Iron Bull or Cole’s appeared at the entrance and time seemed to stand still. Was it a wolf? A mabari? An innocent and ignorant bear cub with its mother trailing behind, hungry and panicked?! The last certainly spelled injury or death holed up in the tent like this. I needed to push the terror down to a breathable level and _think._ No weapon, no time to strap on armor. I felt naked and hopeless. _Crap on toast! Fearless against demons and darkspawn but one shadowy creature in the night and I melt into a pile of goo. Maybe Varric would spin a valiant lie for the eulogy…_ I thought of Cole’s handsome face, the way his soft lidded eyes lit up when he smiled. Oh what I wouldn’t give to have him next to me right now. I sent a silent plea out to him in hopes he would hear.

I scooted back trying to get as far away from the entrance as possible. An intense scream pierced the night air when the tent flap curled open and a large shadow stalked forward, fangs gleaming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter (and most likely from now on) will be from Cole's POV, but will change to 3rd person. As always comments and kudos are well appreciated!<3


	7. Don't Cry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1st chapter from Cole's POV

Too confused with the new sensations and feelings that swirled around him he had run from the camp. He felt cowardly but he was struggling to keep their emotions separate. The want, the need, the desire for the feeling of his flesh on hers were unfamiliar and strange; he fled in hopes they would lesson with distance, give him a chance to breathe, to understand what she wanted and how he might help.

_Choking fear, breathless, no time, defenseless. No, not like this. Cole!_

Cole’s icy blues widened as the rush of panic and fear tightened around his gut like a choking vice. The sheer force of it caused him to stagger as if dealt a physical blow; he heard the plea, ears and mind, and bolted in the direction of the camp. She needed him more than ever.

Regret tried to rip the air from his lungs when the screams rang louder. He raced past trees, ignoring the sting of branches and grasping vines that threatened to trip him. At this moment he cared naught for his own physical pain. She had grown to be the light that cut through the darkness that slithered across his surprisingly human heart.

He arrived at camp in a fury, jaw clenched and seething. Gwen’s tent had been ripped out of the ground and lay a few feet away, shredded almost beyond recognition; familiar furs scattered carelessly. He heard grunts, barbaric yells, and the unmistakable sound of metal connecting with thick hide; Bull was mercilessly battling the dark creature. The fire had mostly burnt down but it was enough to reveal the crumpled back of a thin quivering body. He shamefully wished it to be anyone else. Cole knew in his heart and mind that it was not.

Dread filled his stomach as he approached. The metallic smell of blood assaulted his nose and a strange wetness threatened to blind him as he kneeled at her back. Cole barely heard the breath that slipped from bloodied lips as Gwen chanted his name and crushed a wilted blue flower to her chest. He recognized it from earlier that day; a beautiful tattooed face appeared briefly as he remembered her radiant smile. It was one of her favorites. She had told him so when he picked it for her.

“Gwendolyn,” came out in a choked, frightened whisper.

“C... Co?” weak from loss of blood and dragged down by pain she hadn’t the strength to finish his name. Stomach tight and roiling, he walked around only to freeze in surprise. A large gash split the skin above her left eyebrow and stopped just short of her eye. It continued farther down her cheek, over pink lips, and ended at a trembling jaw. His hands shook with fear. The bloodied eye remained closed while the other stared up weakly in confusion. She tried to reach out to him in an attempt to touch his face, to touch some part of him to make sure he was real but at the movement Gwen sharply sucked in a breath, pain etched clearly across her pale face. Cole placed a cold hand on her shoulder in an awkward attempt to soothe but abandoned it quickly as he scanned over her chest and stomach, becoming more and more worried by the second, desperately trying to find the source of blood. Finally he came upon her lower belly and when he pressed gently she let out a heart wrenching cry of pain. He jerked his hands away, and shuddered at the feel of the blood that slicked them both. _Her blood._

Pieces began to come together in his mind, using the wounds and the pain and terror from her earlier emotions to fill in the rest. _Seething shadows, far away but coming closer. ‘A wolf? A bear?’ Stomach like lead, mind numbing fear. No!_ A strangled scream. His vision flashed white and then black as searing pain engulfed his foot. _No, not mine._ He tried to focus past the pain, remove himself from the memories and sensations that were not his own. The beast had grabbed her by the foot, pulling her close to its body with sharp snapping claws before swiping at her belly and face. Her arm had gone up out of instinct to block the incoming blow. That explained the stop-start nature of the wound on her face; her left arm must have suffered the rest.

Cole’s attention was ripped back to reality at the sound of a small whine. Gwen had started to breathe heavily and her vision glazed over, unseeing. The edges surrounding the gash flared an angry red before turning green. _Poison._

He yelled her name in panic, a mix of helplessness and dread had a grip on his heart like icy talons.

His voice elicited no response and the fear he felt threatened to tear him apart. For a tense moment he thought she stopped breathing until he heard a faint moan of pain. He didn’t know what to do, his experience in healing only dealt with the mind, spiritual, emotional. Physical bleeding or festering wounds were an unknown. He could only think of one other option. Eyes and hands frantically searched the camp for the satchel where they kept the potions and found it next to Solas’ trampled tent. He wondered briefly where the other man could be but needed to refocus on the task ahead. Cole snatched the satchel against his chest wildly and ran back to her side. Kneeling behind her, carefully avoiding the wound, he placed her head on his lap and rolled her over on her back. Despite his gentleness she cried out in pain and shuddered against him.

The antidote potion was first and it was all too easy to guide the bottle to her lips. He hoped beyond everything that she could still swallow despite her weakened state; slowly but surely the potion disappeared down her throat and the effects took hold immediately, the greenish tinge to her wounds fading. He repeated the process with a healing potion and waited for what seemed like a lifetime before her good eye fluttered open. She attempted a weak smile only to grimace at the pain. The potion had slowed the bleeding but the wounds remained open and exposed to infection.

“Cole…” her face softened a little, some of the pain easing when she looked up at him. Her voice was like a balm to his aching heart and he swore to never leave her alone again, no matter the consequences. His vision blurred as he took in her shivering form, broken and bloody on the ground below him. He wanted to crush her to his chest, bury his head in her red hair, and never _ever_ let go. He had no recollection of when she became his priority; he just let the emotions be.

“Don’t… cry” a deep haggard breath, “I’ll be… ok.” She weakly drew a soft thumb under his right eye and wiped away the wetness that had gathered there. Cole leaned into her palm as if it were a lifeline. The claws that seemed to tighten around his heart had lessened the more he heard her voice and felt her cold skin, alive and faintly humming against his own. His vision completely blurred over as he let the odd sensations that thrummed through his body free. Salty wet droplets cascaded down his pale cheeks and his shoulders hunched over uncontrollably as he sobbed the adrenaline, fear, and terror away. His Gwendolyn. His light in the darkness. _Never again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if it seems too OOC, comments and kudos are always appreciated!!


	8. Discovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that this chapter is late. My semester started 1/26 and I have already fallen behind, ridiculous teachers giving homework already. 
> 
> I reviewed this chapter many times, a tweak here a tweak there. I hope it was worth the wait :X
> 
> Edit 8/9/15: Fixed a few character issues.

The cries of a massive beast and the tell tale clang of a shield being struck resonated throughout the camp. Cole barely felt Bull’s pain from a bite wound on his left shoulder; the adrenaline pumped furiously through the large Qunari and blocked out all else.

After Cole’s vision had cleared and the wetness wiped from his face he noticed how Gwen’s body began to shake and shudder from the loss of blood and biting cold. He set to stoking the fire with nearby debris to keep her warm and dreaded leaving but deemed it necessary to keep her alive. He reluctantly placed her head on the ground to grab as many furs as possible from her scattered tent and laid them out on the other side of the fire. They shared a look, she much too weak to speak, and he gingerly tucked an arm under her back while the other snaked under her legs. She winced in pain but nodded at his alarmed expression. ‘ _Just hurry up and do it’_. Cole picked her up with ease and gently laid her down on the soft warmth of the furs.

Even though she was covered in blood and the wound would leave a permanent, jagged scar, he felt as though he could stare at her forever and never tire of the way her markings swirled about her face or the way her emerald eyes enraptured him. He marveled at the fluttery sensations that battered around his stomach whenever he thought of peering into those eyes but had to look away lest the sensations consumed him.

The area was in complete disarray and smelt of blood, burnt flesh, and sulfur. Tents and supplies littered the ground as if a hurricane had raged through destroying all in its path.

The battle cries and sounds of fighting had stopped and he felt the adrenaline and excitement roll off Iron Bull when he stalked back to the camp, blood and gore smattered across his chest and face like war paint.

“It’s dead.” Cole nodded curtly, Bull continued, “Did Solas come back with you?”

Confusion. On a good day Solas was difficult to read, he merely assumed the man to be sleeping in the tent adjacent to Gwen’s. He was obviously mistaken.

Bull cursed, “Of all the times…” He cursed again when his eyes took in Gwen’s shuddering form, bleeding and broken by the fire.

\----

Cole glued himself to Gwendolyn’s side while Bull attempted to scavenge as much of the camp supplies as possible. He stroked her hair and blankly stared off into the distance, trying desperately to keep her pain from consuming him. Touch seemed to amplify the individual’s emotions but he couldn’t fathom the thought of being away from her at the moment. Too soon he felt Bull’s large hand on his shoulder, asking for the worst.

“I need you to do somethin’ for me kid,” he had the map in his other hand and referenced it briefly. “The grove we’re in now is close to a Dalish camp. I need you to run ahead and let them know we bring one wounded,” Bull’s attempt merely garnered a haunted blood shot stare.

“We don’t have the right supplies to properly take care of the Boss.” Bull growled but asked in a sickly sweet voice, “Do you want her to die?”

Cole shot him an ice-cold death glare and when he finally stood up little pinpricks danced along his lower half. He had stayed by her side for at least an hour, body tense and rigid, daring the world to separate them and now Bull wanted, no _needed_ , him to leave her again.

Iron Bull stared back at him expectantly. Cole took one last look to drink as much of her in as possible and left for the direction of the Dalish camp.

\----

As soon as Cole left Bull took to tending Gwen’s wounds, silently thanking Stitches for the basic lessons in first aid. When he got closer to the fire he noted how she lay on her back, eyes closed, breathing shallowly. He cursed as he took in the black soaked ground and how the blood matted the hair around her face in clumps. Taking a root from the healer’s satchel he tore off a small piece and coaxed Gwen to chew it slowly, hoping briefly it would at least lesson some of her pain. He ignored the hoarse cries and small whimpers as he set to cleaning her face of dirt and debris. The twin wounds still wept blood but it had slowed significantly and was no longer in danger of festering or infection. Solas was supposed to be the healer in the group. Stars danced across his vision as he thought about the other elf and his untimely absence. He would need to rely on his training to hold back from pummeling the smaller man when he finally showed up.

The fire had burnt down again and she would surely catch pneumonia if he attempted to undress and clean the wounds on her legs. Bull turned around quickly at a sound in the distance and hunched down, ready for another attack.

It was Cole.

\----

“They are ready for her,” he hunched over, hands on his knees, breathing heavily from running the whole way. Bull nodded, carefully picked her up, furs and all, and huddled her close to his chest. Cole stopped only to grab the most important supplies and fell in step beside Bull. He had a difficult time keeping his eyes on the path ahead. He focused on her alone to make sure he could still feel her pain. Pain meant she was alive.

\----

By the time they arrived Gwen was shivering despite the warmth of the rising sun, eyes shut tight, lips nearly blue. Solas’ whereabouts remained a mystery.

The Dalish camp they came upon appeared open and natural but cleverly protected on both sides by the massive roots of an equally massive hollowed-out tree. A fire pit rested in the center of those roots with a downward sloping hill that led underground beneath the tree’s trunk to create a hutch. Warmth permeated throughout and the furs that lined the bottom gave it a safe, cozy feel.

A blond-haired elf nearly as tall as Bull took her without question and barked out orders to other members of the camp. They followed, Cole buzzing next to the man and desperately hanging on her every breath, every sigh, every moan of pain. Noise. Noise meant she was still alive. Alive was good.

When she was taken down into the hutch they were both asked to leave to allow the healer to strip and clean the rest of her wounds properly. Bull obeyed but remained ever vigilant outside the tree, thankful that it provided some amount of protection on all sides. Cole refused. He would never leave her again and the guilt he felt made it difficult to do much else. They quickly gave up on shooing him away.

They laid her down on the furs to remove the offending clothes and proceeded to clean the wounds of dirt. When they were finished Gwendolyn lay completely naked and helpless, pale skin exposed to the world. Cole felt his face warm and brought a free hand to touch a fuzzy pink cheek, ice blue eyes half lidded in thought. He had seen women naked before, either through another’s eyes or accidentally during their travels, but this felt different somehow. He tried to ignore it.

Cole let his eyes travel over the round lumps on her chest, at the pert round nubs at their centers. Curious; did they feel the same as the rest of her? He had much smaller lumps on his chest, he thought innocently, but the nubs were somewhat familiar and only differed in size. Any further thoughts were interrupted by the white-haired elf that knelt next to him

Blue eyes watched in awe as the women brought two willowy hands forward to hover above the wound on her delicately curved foot and he startled slightly when a soft hand encompassed his own. Gwen’s fear of more pain was palpable and a part of him rejoiced in how his touch alone could bring her some comfort.

Her hand squeezed tighter and he tasted lime and felt the fade draw closer as her pale flesh seemed to dance in an ethereal ballet before it knitted together; the wounds on her stomach and face were mended in similar fashion, faint puckered lines the only evidence of the night’s tragedy. The connection to the fade fizzled and he felt his ears pop as the healer retreated farther into the hutch, presumably to grab clothes or another blanket. Magic tended to have many peculiar effects on his senses.

Cole found himself staring again and his face grew hotter the longer he looked at her naked form until he was forced to turn away lest his chest and face explode. Once more this felt odd. No other naked human form had any effect on his body or mind but he found that with Gwen many things were different. He was familiar with hunger, bathroom necessities, itches, muscle aches. What he felt was warmth that threatened to engulf him, weightlessness in his stomach, and a filling sensation in his groin.

The feelings were too real, too much his own this time, and he desperately needed a distraction. Closing his eyes he tried to breathe evenly in order to better concentrate on the noises and emotions sizzling around him. It seemed as though Bull shared the guilt that Cole felt, and he too blamed himself for not getting to her sooner. Some part of him wanted to walk to Bull, to take the guilt away and ease the pain, but he couldn’t. He would stay by her side until she forced him to leave. When he looked down at her again they had cocooned her shivering form in a thick fur blanket and left their joined hands above it. Gwen was staring with a strange expression on her face, one eye still swollen and shut. She gazed lazily and followed the arm up, curious as to its owner. When that emerald eye found his, the smile that lit up her now scarred face made his chest swell. How she could smile through the pain amazed him. He couldn’t help but return it.

\----

Cole sat by Gwendolyn’s side while she slept for most of the day, waking in the evening with a rumbling belly and aching bladder. He was on her in an instant to lend fluttery, shaky hands to help her to stand. Earlier they had given her something for the pain but warned that it might make her feel or act funny. Cole decided that they weren’t lying. When Gwen was firmly situated on her own two legs she took one look at the ground and within seconds fell heavily against his chest, causing an ‘oof’ to escape his lips. He barely managed to grab her under her chest to keep her from sliding to the ground, her braided and clean hair resting over a thin shoulder. She felt warm and _right_ in his arms. He buried his face in her neck and trailed a nose across the smooth skin, creating goose bumps in its wake as it came to rest behind a sensitive pointed ear. He breathed her scent in deeply, trying to imprint the memory of it, and felt her shudder beneath him. A breath hitched in her throat before she whispered, “Cole…”

A nose continued to nudge the soft thin skin behind her ear “Mmm…” he breathlessly responded, caught up in the odd sensations from the feel of her bare flesh on his own. He was beginning to enjoy the newness, the strangeness of it all. He found himself wanting desperately to know everything, including the scent of her skin.

Gwen shuddered again when a ragged warm breath tickled her neck but managed to steady her legs despite it. He felt her stand up and followed the movement, keeping his nose firmly behind her ear, still drinking her in. She spoke hesitantly, afraid to break the spell that had overcome him.

“Cole, you can let me go now.” He felt her try to wiggle out of his grasp but his arms tightened possessively around her slim form. A small gasp forced its way out of her.

He didn’t want to let her go. She was here, alive, breathing. She would be ok. He continued to breathe her in, willed himself to remember how her hair smelt faintly like elfroot and rain. He wanted to hold her forever and keep her safe no matter what. With a sigh he loosened his hold on her and she hesitantly turned around to face him, muted shock and curiosity evident.

  
Lost in his new discovery, he missed the earlier sound of a commotion outside the safe haven of the tree. Solas had finally returned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos, comments, critiques are always appreciated! <3 you guys!!


	9. Stubborn Bull

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shout out to one of my readers! [Hypnic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3254192) is the start of a wonderfully sweet Cole/Lavellan fic. Please check it out and don't forget to leave the author a comment/kudos!
> 
>  
> 
> [Hypnic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3254192)

“What happened?” Solas managed to breathe out.

Cole shuddered as a memory clouded his vision. He could almost taste the fear that had slithered through Solas’ chest when he returned to find the camp destroyed and soaked with blood. His mind rushed through possibilities but always settled on the worst. _Gwendolyn. No._ _‘Ir abelas, ma vhenan’ escaped on a breath as he fell to his knees next to a shredded piece of her furs, his heart heaving violently in his chest. It was then he saw the trail of Bull’s bloody foot prints and hope instantly bloomed behind his eyes. He followed the trail as if it led to his salvation._ Cole blinked rapidly when the memory ended and followed Gwen when she walked forward.

Solas failed to hide the relief that washed through his body when he saw her appear but stood rigid, his back ramrod straight when his eyes took in her marred face and limp, “I thought…” the words stuck in his throat, he tried again, “the camp smelt of blood, I did not know--”

Bull growled at Solas when he spoke, “You’re supposed to be the healer in this group. We almost lost the Boss.” He spoke through clenched teeth and his face appeared as if it were dipped in red paint. Cole had never seen him like this before. The Iron Bull never once came this close to losing his composure, always the expert at keeping emotions down. He could feel the fear slide through Gwen at what the Qunari might do in his barely controlled rage but she walked towards him anyway.

A delicate hand curled around Bull’s thumb and his anger all but deflated. Her presence brought with it an air of calm that served to soothe some of the tension brought by Solas’ return. She leaned her full weight into the larger man in a desperate attempt to stay off her injured foot.

“Boss, you need to rest--” She brought her other hand forward to silence him.

He could see the warring emotions behind those captivating emerald eyes as she fought against a blinding wetness of her own; _sickly sharp seething in the shadows, a warm bed, white fangs, icy blue eyes. She felt betrayed, but alive, spiraling into sadness, but safe now, fear, helplessness, choking pain—_ her thoughts were jumbled and made little sense if read as a whole. Cole knew how to piece the strands together so that they made sense but found he could no longer listen to his Light be swallowed by cloying darkness he never knew her to have.

“Gwendolyn,” Inquisitive, questing, probing. It worked; heinous thoughts were displaced by feelings she associated with the sound of his voice. His heart swelled with the knowledge of how such a simple thing could provide warmth, comfort, safety.

“I want to go home,” came out on a choked sob and she turned from Bull to throw her hands around his shoulders. Little droplets fell on his neck like rain and he held her as small spasms rocked her body. He silently promised to take her home and destroy any who got in his way.

\----

After finding Gwendolyn alive Solas had no intention of explaining his whereabouts the previous night. Iron Bull felt there to be no need for an explanation; the boss had minimal injuries and there would be no sense in living in ‘what-ifs’ however Cole knew that Bull planned to interrogate the elf later. He kept this to himself and no one pushed the matter further.

Gwen remained steadfast in her decision to leave. They tried to argue with her, convince her to stay until she could walk without pain but Cole knew the words fell on deaf ears. She was determined to return to Skyhold as soon as possible. After the promise of a few favors the clan leader reluctantly lent them a small cattle-driven wagon they used to transport food and supplies that was just big enough for her to sprawl out in. They had, however, refused to lend them any Halla and as such the group would remain at the camp until a plan could be figured out.

Cole felt the guilt and embarrassment that radiated from Gwen before the words tumbled from her mouth, “Bull, can’t you just--”

  
“No,” he responded already sensing her question, arms stubbornly crossed over his chest.

“But you’re the strongest one!” she couldn’t help but blurt. Solas’ eyes narrowed slightly yet he refused to offer assistance, the deed beneath him.

“Flattery won’t work here,” the words came out in a tight-lipped growl.

Cole stared straight ahead, his voice firm, “I will do it.”

Gwen spun around, one green eye wide, the other puckered shut, “but—“

“I want to do it.” _I would do anything for her_. It surprised him every time the thought snaked through his mind.

Her features softened and the look she gave him made his heart flutter wildly against chest. His offer made her happy which somehow made him happy. Odd.

“As long as you’re sure…” she muttered hesitantly. He nodded briskly and smiled, knowing it would ease her guilt.

Cole walked to the front of the wagon and bent down to grab the thick leather strap that tied the two spokes together. His fingers barely touched the worn material before he hesitated and straightened up; nug leather. He looked to Gwen with a pained expression before staring dejectedly at his feet. He felt her anger flare but was wholeheartedly relieved that it wasn’t aimed at him.

“I can’t…” came out on a defeated breath.

“Now you HAVE to,” practically roared at the Qunari in frustration; the more he refused the more angry and red faced she got.

“As your boss I order you to cart my ass back to Skyhold! Forget your pride, you, you, you stubborn…!” she stuttered, stopping abruptly, as her anger started to fade.

“Say it,” Bull growled.

“You stubborn bull!” Cole watched her take a step back when Bull started striding menacingly towards her but she held her nose up defiantly, glaring at him.

She jumped when he laughed as if she expected a physical blow, his voice booming across the forest.

“Relax Boss, I just like getting you all riled up. It’s kind of sexy, especially with that eye.” Cole’s hands clenched before he could stop them and he looked down at them confused. Bull winked and walked forward to tie the leather straps around his waist and grab the spokes at his sides. He tested its weight before moving forward and found it fairly light. “If you gloat about this I’ll have Sera douse your clothes in that pink potion of hers.”

Gwen gulped and nodded as she climbed into the wagon. Cole knew about the potion. He had once tried to touch the strange bottle only to have Sera scream at him, “That’s right kinky shite! Don’t touch it!” That was the last time Cole dared enter her room.

\----

Bull had abandoned the wagon a few miles before they got to Skyhold in favor of carrying her bridal style through the gates. As they got closer Cole began his ritual of shutting everyone else out.

The sound was deafening when they first arrived from Haven, the pain, sadness, anger, and regret that everyone felt was staggering until he learned to slowly block some of it out. He remembered how Varric had told him some things would change as he became more human; he was right. The feelings no longer threatened to consume him if he didn’t help immediately. His thoughts were interrupted when Gwen spoke.

“I do NOT need any more healers, I need a bath and some time alone!” she fumed at the crowd that gathered around her in worry and pulled at Bull’s shoulder harness “Please just carry me to my room. I want to be alone.”

Cole tried to keep his face placid when he looked at her, an ice crystal seemingly lodged in his heart by her words. _Alone. Without him._ However the look she gave him helped to ease it slightly and when she mouthed, “only you” the ice spontaneously combusted into a brilliant burst of heat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ‘Emma abelas, ma vhenan’ is roughly translated to mean “I am sorry, my heart”. I used [Elven Language](http://dragonage.wikia.com/wiki/Elven_language) Please let me know if that’s the wrong translation.  
> Comments/Kudos/Critiques are always appreciated :)<3


	10. Never Forget

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another long chapter because I love you guys! <3

Despite his desire to follow her to the room he could no longer ignore the vicious pang in his stomach. With one last look at The Iron Bull’s retreating form he scurried over to the kitchens only to stop at the door when he heard the unmistakable sound of Sera’s manic laughter. Cole knew deep down that her laugh was never a good sign and wondered what sort of mischief she had in mind. He hesitantly opened the door and barely evaded the glass bottle that flew through the air, only to land behind him and shatter its oozy-pink contents all over the ground. The liquid hissed as it immediately evaporated and left the air with the scent of rose and jasmine.

Sera whined, glaring at him. “I made that yeah? Took friggin forever! And you sodded it up. You were supposed to be all, ‘oh Gwenderfen!’” She proceeded to make wet noises with her mouth whilst grinding her hips suggestively. Cole remained speechless and stared, naïve to the meaning of her actions. “Bloody hell. Make snoshy faces? Yea?” his ignorance only seemed to deflate her and she made a frustrated noise, pushed past him, and stalked out the door. He watched her go, confused, until he felt another pang in his stomach. Food. Right.

A look around the kitchen revealed it to be completely empty and he took his time as he bustled around the room placing some of Gwendolyn’s favorite treats along with quite a few of his own in a white cloth. He eyed a basket of ripe red cherries that lay nestled in the corner by the oven before deciding to grab a handful and stuff them with the cookies. Satisfied with his prize he left the kitchen and munched on an almond cookie as he made his way up the stairs to her bedchambers.

\----

Iron Bull carried the Inquisitor effortlessly up the stairs bending her at the waist as little as possible. When they got to the top she let out a charming squeal at the sight of the steaming tub, delighted that someone had had the foresight to have it ready for her when she arrived. Gwen had expected Bull to walk away after he laid her on the bed but he just stood and stared at her, a mischievous glint in his eye. She winced at her failed attempt of an eyebrow raise and instead delicately cleared her throat, “Thank you for everything Bull.” Her attempt to politely shoo him out of the room failed.

“How do you expect to get into the tub?” He growled out. He didn’t miss the faint squeak or the way her throat moved as she swallowed a few times. It pulled at something bestial inside him; he found that he liked those noises.

She let out a strangled breath in thought, steeling herself, and attempted to stand up on her own. Her vision blackened as she felt herself falling until large hands grasped her frail elbows, gentle despite their size.

“I could make a joke about you falling for me but it would sound tacky.” Gwen rolled her eye at the terrible half-pick up line and wondered if she could even undress herself. It hurt to bend over and she tried to think of a way to get her pants off while keeping her torso straight. _Crap_

Bull grew quiet as he watched the thoughts play across her face. “I’ll be gentle,” he kept his voice low and serious as if speaking to a skittish mare. The analogy wasn’t far off from how she actually felt.

She huffed out, “fine, but if you start any funny business I’ll cut your horns off and mount them on my wall.”

He chuckled darkly, “sure.”

She looked away while he removed her tunic and tried not to hiss out in pain when he shimmied her leggings off. He whistled. A green eye flew open and caught his admiring gaze; she blushed furiously.

“Red lacy under things? You expecting someone?” he didn’t bother to hide his satisfied smirk.

She looked away quickly, mortified, and then sucked in a breath when she felt a warm finger slide under her panties, grazing her right hip bone. Despite his previous jesting attitude the act was clinical, necessary and yet her body refused the unfamiliar touch. She tensed, frozen like a nug caught in the light of a veilfire torch and sensing her discomfort the hand stopped.

“You mind if these get wet?”

Gwen let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding and rapidly shook her head ‘no’. He scooped her up and started to place her butt-first into the tub when she hissed out a breath. The pain became too much when the water touched the wound on her lower abdomen and she grabbed the closest appendage, a horn, in an attempt to scrabble out of the tub. She ended up viciously wrenching his head to the side in the process but continued to whimper and arch towards the ceiling in an attempt to lift herself out of the water. A growl escaped the Qunari’s throat in response, slightly aroused at the unintended roughness of her touch. The fact that she was wearing what he considered dainty and intimate under things didn’t help either.

He pulled her out of the water and managed to grind out a “Boss” between clenched teeth, his neck twisted awkwardly to the side.

When she finally let go of his horn he brought his neck back up to crack it loudly. He stared down at her, amused; the floor boards creaked behind them. She tried to peer over the man’s massive shoulder to see who had walked in.

Iron Bull turned to see Cole stroll into the room with a bundle of cloth in his hand and a half eaten cookie disappearing between his lips.

\----

Cole’s face grew hot when he took in Gwendolyn’s state of undress. The sight of her bare flesh made him feel different now that she wasn’t broken and unconscious beside him; _she was wearing red._

She fixed him with a horrified expression and his eyes glazed over, unseeing, as he filtered through a memory. _Val Royeux market place, walking through the stands, stopped by a gloved hand. She is lead inside a room softly lit by candles. He feels her embarrassment sweep around in waves as she eyes the merchant’s wares. Fabric made with lace and silk. Quick furtive glances until her eyes latch upon a familiar color. It almost matches her cheeks as she holds it up. He startles slightly when his own image swims before his eyes. She buys the red lace, thanking the merchant, begs him to wrap it tightly. No one must know. A secret. Ears are red when she thinks of him again. She wants to make him happy because it makes her happy. Return the favor… maybe one day when he understands._

He shudders when the memory ends and when his vision clears The Iron Bull is gone and Gwen is lying on her back underneath a thin silken sheet, red in the face and staring at him nervously. Cole looks her in the eye and feels her shame before she hastily looks away to stare at the wall on the other side. He wants to tell her that he likes the red lace if only to see her smile again but the words stick in his throat; he remembers the nearly forgotten bundle of treats. He walks closer to the bed and it creaks in response to the extra weight when he sits down.

She still refuses to look at him and it makes his chest hurt _._ He has gotten used to the smile she gives him when he looks at her. He gets up and walks to the other side to stand in front of the wall that seems to have stolen her attention. She pinches her eye shut to stop a lone tear from falling when he kneels on the floor next to her and lays the small package down next to her head by the pillow. _Embarrassed, ashamed, but wanting, needing, begging to be understood. How does he feel about me? How will he ever love me now? Face forever marred, chipped like an unwanted tea saucer, tainted. She fears he no longer finds her beautiful._

_Love?_

_Beautiful?_

The brilliant red strands of hair that escape her braid run wild and stick to her face and the green swirling mark he likes to trace with his finger appears less bright behind the puffy scar. He kneels next to the bed, lays his head on his arms, and continues to stare, drinking in her features. He likes how her ears curl slightly before pinching at the tips and tries to imagine pictures in the little brown dots that speckle across her cheeks and nose.

She slowly opens a dazzling emerald eye when she feels his breath on her face. Her mouth opens slightly in surprise when she catches him staring at her so intently and he studies her pink tongue as it flicks out to nervously wet her lips. Cole mimics her, sending his tongue out to touch his own lips and shudders at the sensation. He composes himself, grabs the bundle of treats, and offers her a shortbread cookie. A pale hand ventures past silk sheets as she takes the cookie, surprised yet grateful, and he walks to the other side of the bed. He has come to know when she is tired and goes about taking his shoes and hat off. His skin is slick and his shirt constricting; he takes that off as well.

“Cole, wait.” She sounds frightened and he stops with his hand on the covers, confused. Her face is turning red again and he can tell she is warring with herself over something. Finally she whispers, “Cole I’m wearing--”

“Red. You bought it to make me happy because red is my favorite. Thank you.” He said it as honestly as he could.

Cole saw her swallow and stare up at the ceiling, again refusing to look at him. He didn’t understand her reaction; did she not wish to go to bed just yet? Had he been mistaken? Did she truly wish to be alone? He stood next to the bed as a war raged in his head.

When Sera cringed against using his name and instead insisted on referring to him as an ‘it’, it did not bother him. When Vivienne found him walking up the stairs to her room late one evening and threw pillows and books while she vehemently chanted, ‘demon’, it did not bother him. This bothered him; being ignored, unseen by his Light.

For a while after the change he wished he could make others forget like they used to; healing, helping, gone. He thought back to that day with Varric, the day when he told the smaller man how it felt under the gaze of their sticky eyes; it was easier when they forgot. His fists clenched at his sides as he silently wished to take those words back. Had she forgotten about him? He had begged for it once, begged to be forgotten but never by _her, n_ ever ever forgotten by _her._

Clenched fists began to shake as the world seemed to crash around him; it was becoming difficult to breathe--

“Cole.” she is frightened again but for a different reason. He had failed to notice exactly when she turned to face him, he still felt lost, drowning.

“Please don’t forget me…” a choked whisper. Haunted blue eyes stared directly into her emerald one, searching, pleading.

Understanding dawned on her face and she held out a pale brown-speckled arm. His skin prickled and he let out an involuntary shiver, suddenly cold. He lifted the covers and scooted towards her on the bed until his head rested on her shoulder.

“I could _never_ forget you Cole.” _She means that with all her heart and soul. One day he’ll truly understand._ Were the last thoughts he heard before exhaustion finally took over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments/Critiques/Kudos are always appreciated. Also, if anyone finds a good Cole/Female Inquisitor fic on this site or any other please include a link in your comment. No fake links please!  
> I will try to do the same. Here is a veeery long fanfiction, [The Inquisitor's Ghost](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10820210/1/The-Inquisitor-s-Ghost)  
> AMAZING. The beginning is heavily based off of Asunder.


	11. Thank You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a day late, please forgive me >.

For once the roles were reversed and it was she that couldn’t sleep. Gwen lay awake for the second time that night staring at the ceiling and desperately trying to gain some form of composure; her heart thudded heavily in her chest when she thought of the man desperately clinging to her half-naked body.

Cole… this was the first time he had actually fallen asleep; his eyes were shut, face relaxed, and his breath came and went evenly. Sometime during his slumber he had scooted closer, threw an arm protectively over her stomach, a leg over her thighs and snuggled his blond head between her breasts. This blue-eyed wonder was practically lying on top of her, shirtless. It felt like an accomplishment of some sort, whether he was conscious of it or not. When he first joined the inner circle he would flinch away from anyone’s touch like one flinches away from a hot pan. _So much has changed._

Warmth radiated from the soft yet scarred expanse of his bare chest and she noted fondly how his broad shoulders dwarfed her own; it made her feel small and protected. He twitched in his sleep and the small tuft of dirty blond hair that trailed down his navel tickled her stomach. She briefly wondered if it continued past the line of his breeches.

Gwen closed her eye and tried to steady her breathing. It wasn’t that she felt terribly uncomfortable around the opposite sex. She had kissed some of the boys in her clan before but her brief ‘intimate’ encounters were simple, innocent, enacted only with crushes while fully clothed and had had sex only once. It was a disaster; her keeper’s attempt to wed her as early as possible backfired when one of her suitors tried to take what she would never truly give. She had gone along with it, the man was handsome if extremely arrogant but at the end of it all he had sworn to brand her with magic. She was too pretty to let walk around a free woman; he wanted everyone to know that she belonged to him. They found him the next morning with a dagger sticking out of his chest. She lightly shook her head to clear it of the memory and found her mind wandering to Cole yet again.

In the beginning he was merely the spirit that helped her escape from the Nightmare the Envy demon placed her in at Therinfal Redoubt; he was, as she had embarrassingly found out, an invisible but necessary ally during the battle later on. She had thought to have seen the last of him until that fateful day in Haven when he magically appeared on the war table, scaring the crap out of everyone and nearly getting himself killed. She would never have guessed how easily the shy and mysterious blond rogue would wedge his way into her heart.

Her thoughts were briefly interrupted when she felt a soft sigh caress her bare skin and an arm tighten possessively around her waist. Her eye flew open and she tensed; praying desperately that he stay asleep. Only when she felt him rub his face against her breast and settle once more did she relax. It was her turn to sigh. What was it with men and breasts? Or was it simpler than that and in his slumber Cole mistook them for a pillow? There was no point in wondering; she didn’t have the courage to ask him about it later.

Gwen ran a pale finger along the scar on her face. She was the only person capable of keeping the world as they knew it from going to the Dread Wolf in a hand basket and here she was trying not to cry over lost beauty. It made her feel pathetically shallow; she let out a shaky breath. There were so few opportunities to boast her feminine side; as a rogue she was constantly in armor with her ‘abnormally’ long red hair tied back in a tight bun and her dainty toes stuffed into awful flat footed boots. She rarely felt truly beautiful.

Her dedication to the Inquisition warred with her Dalish heritage where toes were set free and hair was allowed to be long and wild. She despised the ugly gray jumpsuit they insisted she wear around Skyhold and instead opted to wear something of her own design; a short, form-fitting, long sleeve green tunic with black leg wrappings. It was simple, comfortable, and perfect.

A heavy breath tickled the skin of her chest again and she looked down only to stare into sleepy ice-blue eyes; he was barely awake yet he still managed to appear adorably confused.

“Um, hi.” She sounded perfectly intelligent and normal… or so she told herself.

He was slowly trying to clear the sleep from his eyes; he blinked furiously and looked around the room. Eventually he came back only to stare directly into her good eye. She wanted to explode when he gave her a sleepy half grin and said, “Hi.”

“H—“ The word died in her throat when he disentangled himself and leaned on his other arm to stare directly at her breasts with a curious expression on his face.

“Why are they different from mine?” He asked innocently but stared shamelessly.

Gwen had to keep herself from spluttering out nonsense and tried to pretend it was like giving an anatomy lesson; perfectly clinical and asexual in every way. Right.

She cleared her throat, “It’s because I’m a woman,” she paused and tried to steady herself, “they are called breasts.”

“Breasts…” he tested the word and repeated it several times. Her face grew warmer by the minute; she felt as if her head would explode. Again. “They are soft and warm. I like them because they are yours.” He said it so sweetly and matter-of-factly.

The statement surprised her so much that both green eyes flew wide open and she cried out in pain as the scar tissue that had healed over her injured eye ripped open. Out of instinct she brought a hand up to cover her face to apply pressure on the seething pain in hopes it would lesson. It throbbed in time with her heartbeat and her breath came fast. In the back of her mind she registered a shift in the mattress, felt warmth cover her rib cage and calloused pale fingers gently tug at her wrist.

He was straddling her, the tops of his knees lodged nearly to her armpits and she could feel the warmth between his legs as he tried to pry her hand away; if her face didn’t hurt so much she would have squealed like a slapped nug at how close he was. She tried to concentrate on the pain knowing all too well he could sense her emotions now that he was fully awake.

“Gwendolyn…!” he was getting slightly frustrated as she twisted her head this way and that trying to escape his grasp. “Please…” another failed attempt, pale willowy fingers grasping at thin air. “Let me help!”

The pain had continued to subside only to be replaced by searing warmth as her face grew more and more pink. She eventually stopped moving and let him slowly peel her hand off the wound. Her fingers came away slicked with blood and she blanched, terrified. He must have felt her fear because his expression softened before he spoke. “It’s not that bad.”

 _Not_ that _bad._ She bit her lip in an attempt to hold back tears as his words circled around and around her mind; _her face or the wound,_ some irrational part of her screamed.

\----

He continued to gaze at her, becoming more and more puzzled at the strange thoughts buzzing through her head.

“Why does what I might think hurt you?” he whispered as if to himself.

“I don’t—“ was all she managed to choke out before he interrupted her.

“You are… beautiful” he tested the word he had stolen from her earlier and found that it described what he thought of her quite well; it certainly had the desired effect.

“What…?” was all she could say, pain all but forgotten.

Eyes glazed over, unseeing, something only his icy-blue orbs could achieve, _“pale freckled skin glimmering glossy in the moonlight, shining eyes as brilliant green as the emeralds worn by kings, wild untamed red hair fluttering in the wind, captivating, different, real.”_

When his vision cleared he found her staring at him slightly open mouthed. That same mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping on unfamiliar air. He could tell she had no idea how to process his words and he wondered, for the second time that night, if he had been mistaken. He tried to hide underneath his hat but realized he wasn’t wearing it. He tried to hide under the messy blond bangs that framed his face and when that was unsatisfactory, he used his hands. He felt… embarrassed. It was an odd sensation, embarrassment. Varric had tried to teach him of it but the smaller man was never successful. Cole bitterly thought he accomplished it well enough on his own and he found that he didn’t like it.

He felt soft fingers gently tug at the hands covering his face, nearly identical to what he had done to her earlier. His face felt hot and the room seemed smaller. When she finally managed to pull his hands away he closed his eyes, refusing to meet her gaze. Only when he felt soft fingertips brush along his cheeks did he open them. He could still feel a slight twinge of her pain but it was drastically muted by another emotion he couldn’t pinpoint.

Icy blue orbs locked with emerald greens before she smiled softly and whispered, “Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *peeks out from under hands* Was it horrible? Terrible? Too fast? I struggled so much with this chapter... lay it on me gently, ok? :X *hides under covers*  
> Comments/critiques are GREATLY APPRECIATED. Especially for this chapter!! Remember, I love you all <3


	12. Beauty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I provided pictures of the dress and Gwendolyn. First inquisi I made in-game and still my favorite in terms of how she turned out<3
> 
> EDIT 2/8/2015  
> My boyfriend informed me that the dress I originally picked wasn't scandalous enough to elicit such strong feelings from a man. The description and picture of the dress have changed.

It took a little less than a week for Gwendolyn’s wounds to heal enough so that she could comfortably walk around Skyhold, her scars reduced to whispers of what they once were. The healing process would have been much faster had she accepted Solas’ help but for some reason she couldn’t help but blame the older elf for the severity of her injuries. It made her wonder at how often he silently slipped away at night, she always assumed him to be sleeping soundly in his own tent. Her blood boiled at the possibilities of his whereabouts and she prayed and hoped that he left for innocent reasons. His recent actions weren’t helping his cause either. Maybe she was being childish and brash but she found it difficult to face him after he steadfastly refused to tell her where he had gone that night. It bothered her to no end.

It was no sooner than word of her recovery spread that Gwen received a request to dine with Vivienne. The invite came the night before and she accepted against her better judgment; the talented mage had never taken an interest in her before and the whole ordeal rang with suspicion. She woke up the next morning to find her bed empty of a certain blond rogue; he must have sensed her regret to ask him for privacy (something she never did) and so took it upon himself to leave without being asked. She felt intensely grateful for his foresight.

Even more strange than the invite was the beautiful floor length dress she found in her closet; the attached note written in flowing script and signed ‘Vivienne’. It was stunning but showed far too much skin for the weather in Skyhold. Swatches of light green, blue, and dark cobalt fell in thin waves and sylvanwood tree vines snaked across the breast and down the waist. The dress had a low, cleavage-revealing neckline, and it made Gwen cringe. She sighed. The low neckline would be lost on her by itself; an extremely tight corset would be necessary but impossible to pull off. It was backless with cut outs around both ribs; the corset would most definitely peek through.

She began to wrap her feet, stopping just below the knee, with matching light green fabric and marveled at Vivienne’s silent acceptance of her dislike of shemlan footwear. An elven servant helped her pull the thin silky fabric over pale skin. She was amazed to feel warmth radiate through her body and silently wondered how Vivienne managed to weave fire enchantments into the very fibers of the dress. The servant led her to a glass mirror before politely ducking out of the room.

Emerald eyes stared in awe when she took in the creature gazing back at her. The women in the reflection radiated beauty and grace so palpable it seemed as if a physical thing. The cool breeze from the open window whispered playfully through the thin fabric and the silks caught the light only to toss it back with brilliance. She felt truly beautiful for the first time in what seemed like years, her scar all but forgotten.

\----

Gwen found herself sitting on the plush cushions of Vivienne’s studio couch artlessly holding a glass of some deliciously sweet alcoholic concoction. It tasted like a mixture of peaches and cream and each sip sent warm tendrils of heat pooling around her legs. She closed her eyes and wiggled her toes against the inside of her dress, loving the sensation; she had to clamp her mouth shut to keep a manic giggle from escaping. ‘ _Crap,’_ she thought, _‘am I drunk?’_ and guiltily eyed Vivienne’s curvy backside. The woman seemed to be talking to the air past the balcony for how much listening the green eyed elf was doing.

She had been discussing a request for a snowy Wyvern heart and how important it was for the heart to be as fresh as possible. No amount of sophistication could hide the carnage her words elicited and Gwen found herself losing focus once again. For some odd reason whenever the eloquent mage spoke she couldn’t help but drift away into thoughts of her own; thoughts that mostly consisted of a shirtless blue-eyed rogue eyeing her sleepily. She sighed lightly, certain the wine didn’t help.

“I do not understand why you keep that demon around,” the older woman declared as if reading her mind after turning briskly and swirling wine around her own glass. She was too sophisticated for lesser tonics (or so Gwendolyn bitterly thought).

“Excuse me?” the inquisitor managed to splutter out. Maybe she had missed something? She could have sworn the conversation included merely ‘wyverns’ and ‘death’.

“Your pet, dear, seems to have taken up an odd obsession. It is truly unhealthy.” The voluptuous cocoa colored woman bristled and whirled back around, her coat tails whipped in the breeze.

Gwen couldn’t for the life of her understand how in the Dread Wolf the conversation went from wyverns to Cole. It was no secret how Vivienne felt about the steely-eyed rogue but there were never any stabs in the dark enacted on her part. Everyone knew that Vivienne expressed her thoughts (and quite often) directly. It was strange for the circle mage to talk about Cole behind his back.

“He seeks to consume your aura like a Gluttony demon.” The mage eyed Gwen in that critical way she eyed all those she considered inferior, a nose turned up in mock disgust, a slight tilt of the eyebrows.

Gwen just sighed, placed her glass down, and stumbled to the balcony railing, internally grateful at the short distance. It was then she caught the reflection off a metal helmet and gulped.

\----

Cole had tried to keep his promise of staying by Gwen’s side but soon realized the difficulty of such a task. More often than not her advisor’s refused to let him into the war room claiming the need for confidentiality and privacy. After much convincing and promises to ‘make it up’ to him (Cole didn’t see how one could make up lost time) he had finally relented and stood directly outside the door each time she disappeared behind it. She would always smile when she returned to find him sitting down patiently waiting for her. Her advisors were less impressed. He found that he didn’t much care for what they thought.

She, at least, didn’t seem to mind when he walked around Skyhold with her and he came to enjoy her presence, missing it desperately when they were apart. The longer they spent away from each other the less in control he felt over his body. Fists would clench, nails biting into the meaty flesh of his palm, while he warred with the urge to touch, to feel, to remind himself that she was here and alive and _real._ Her pale skin seemed to sing to him, soft and glowing, _begging, wanting, needing._ He had never felt anything like it.

When emerald eyes stared into icy blues his stomach would flutter, his face would grow hot, and a rare smile would grace cracked lips. It both excited and frightened him.

Last night she had been invited to commune with the circle mage and he knew right away he would not be able to accompany her. He silently slipped out before she awoke that morning with a mission of his own. He desperately needed to talk to Varric. Cole hoped the friendly dwarf would give him an unedited explanation of what he was feeling.

He hastily took two steps at a time on his way down the stairs of the tavern and made for the direction of the main hall. Gwen had left at least an hour ago and Cole wasn’t sure if he had enough time to speak with Varric.

His feet stopped as if glued in place before the second set of stairs to the main hall and his eyes instinctively searched Vivienne’s balcony. Gwen’s aura radiated out as if calling to him and he felt drawn to it like a moth to a flame, his original mission drying up by the minute. He watched Vivienne swirl liquid around a glass, mouth moving with words too low for him to hear. The elf was nowhere to be seen. He tried to peer past the mage’s curvy form to get a glimpse of red hair but found it useless. He instead settled on staring through the balcony and concentrating on her aura, willing an image of green eyes and red hair to appear.

The image shattered when the sound of ‘demon’ floated past, lazily carried by the wind. He stared, a small scowl beginning to form, at the older mage’s retreating form and was about to walk up the steps when he saw Vivienne return with Gwendolyn trailing behind.

His mouth fell slightly open of its own accord and his stomach fluttered when his eyes took in what she was wearing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates will be every 3-4 days because college sucks :C  
> [The dress](http://www.promnightstyles.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/04/sexy-blue-prom-dress-2012.jpg) Not exact. Colors and silver design are different.  
> [Gwendolyn minus the scar](https://fbcdn-sphotos-h-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-xaf1/v/t1.0-9/1506029_10205586918179599_5261977937937137870_n.jpg?oh=3a93e0ab5b69ffcaee1d130f112de54d&oe=5558934F&__gda__=1431497720_ffe28d9dc63bfabd9024450b0378e30f) In this fic she has longer hair and freckles.


	13. Birds and Bees

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if the beginning is confusing, it should make sense as you read along.

Blue eyes glaze, overtaken; feelings, thoughts, jumbled together.

_Warm but open, aching, begging to be caressed with gentle calloused hands—Red tendrils frame sparkling emerald eyes—Still looking, does he like the dress?—Breasts, different but hers, exposed, I know they’re soft, want need touch, a reminder of how they feel—Mouth open, cute, to be able to kiss cracked lips in earnest—Need to be with her—I think I love him…_

He shuddered, would he ever truly separate her thoughts from his own?

His focus returned. Caught by a whispering wind brilliant greens and blues swirled gracefully around pale legs and sunlight glinted off something traveling down her waist. He was mesmerized, rooted to the ground, completely and utterly lost. The sun appeared similarly enraptured as it danced along exposed flesh, illuminating as if from within. She glowed, bright in more ways than one.

She met his gaze and he noticed for the first time how blush continued past her checks and neck to cover the tops of heaving breasts, barely covered by silky fabric. Taut muscle peeked through holes and he found himself wanting more. He couldn’t take his eyes off of pale skin but desperately needed to. The fluttery sensation in his stomach traveled downward, catching fire, until it settled searing-hot in his groin. He finally looked away as he hunched over and grabbed his middle in fear; _filling, frenzy, fiery need to touch soft flesh._ He clamped his eyes shut, willing himself to think of something else. He wanted to bolt, to run, two stairs at a time to face her and... and… what? He wanted to melt into her, unfinished and broken when apart but finally whole when joined. Primal instinct roared, thrashed at the bars of its cage, but without a clue of its release. _Become one, she is yours. Take what is yours…_

 _How?!_ Crashing waves, a rising crescendo, pain, filled to bursting, mind and body—

\--Shattered by a familiar voice. He could breathe again, pain quelling to a dull ache.

“Please don’t throw up on the stairs!” Cole cracked an eye at the sound of Cullen’s voice but didn’t respond for fear of losing control. Icy blue eyes clamped shut, desperately honing in on the malice emanating from the circle mage. It helped.

The commander’s mood instantly switched from joking to concern and he quickly ran down the steps to grab the blond by the shoulders. _Only kidding, is he really sick?_ Blue eyes stared desperately into gold, attention momentarily flickering from Gwen’s lithe form on the balcony and back. Understanding blossomed and he followed the rogue’s gaze…

“Maker’s breath…” Cullen choked and immediately stood ramrod straight, face taking on a similar shade of crimson as his eyes roamed shamefully across the tops of Gwen’s breasts before they traveled lower to settle on wide hips. _Small but firm, round in all the right places—Wrong wrong to think of the inquisitor that way but Maker help me—Imagine her naked, writhing under me in pleasure. Beautiful, stunning, my name a moan on her lips—_

Cole couldn’t help but scowl at the words running through the other man’s mind and a small growl interrupted explicit thoughts when blue eyes locked on the ex-templar. He felt… angry. He used it to further help reign in control and stood straight once more. Cullen stared, taken off guard by the former spirit’s behavior and squared his shoulders as he backed away.

“Well, if you require no further assistance...” Feathers tossed about in the wind and he frowned at the commander’s retreating form.He had almost forgotten. Icy blues snuck another look at Gwen only to be rewarded with the fine outlines of a curvy backside; heat blossomed in his chest and this time he reveled in it. He made for the stairs once more.

\----

By the time Cole made it to the top he had somewhat rearranged his thoughts enough to seek audience with the caring dwarf without embarrassing himself too much.

Varric was situated at his usual spot scribbling furiously on a piece of weathered parchment. The table was cluttered with used ink wells and crumpled pieces of paper. The dwarf looked up fondly when he saw who had approached.

“To what do I owe this honor kid?” Varric always had a smile and kind words; he found it difficult not to feel comfortable.

“Gwendolyn makes me feel funny.” Cole blurted out. The resulting expression he received made him want to take words back. It didn’t come out right. Once again he found himself wishing to make others forget so he could start over.

“What kind of funny and when?” It was a sincere question; Varric honestly wanted to know. It emboldened him, gave him courage to trudge on.

Chapped lips responded in what he found most comfortable, “ _Fluttery warmth, filling down below, intense heat as it drags me down down down. Bare skin shining pale in the moonlight. Soft, warm, want to feel to touch to take, consume—“_ heat was beginning to encompass his face as he talked faster only interrupted by a firm hand on his arm.

“Whoa kid, slow down and breathe.” Concern, worry, but happiness hiding there too.

He took a steady breath and watched the emotions play across a wide face; a smirk turning into a full blown grin. Cole really hated being confused and found himself more so often than not. It was exhausting.

“Well well our young man is growing up!” a swift pat on the back made him stumble forwards a little. Varric grinned so widely Cole feared his face would split in two.

“What do you mean?”

“Does Gwen make you happy?” sincere, curious.

“Happy?” Cole responded in surprise having never considered happiness, only familiar with physical sensations but completely oblivious as to what they meant. He knew hurt, pain, regret, fear, emotions that once sang to him, emotions that begged to be relieved. They were familiar, not wanted but ever present. The song grew quiet after his transformation but if he tried hard enough he could hear it, a haunting melody in the distance. Gwen’s song, no matter the emotion, rang clear as day.

“It’s a bit difficult to explain,” He continued when he noticed Cole’s insistent silence “when someone makes you happy…” he grappled for the right words. “Happiness is…”

As Varric struggled to explain Cole remembered a word he had heard earlier, “Varric, tell me about love instead.”

Frustrated meaty hands shot into the air, “that’s even harder to explain.” A good-natured chuckle.

“Here it’s easier this way.” He began again, “Do you ever feel butterflies in your stomach or a tight pulling sensation in your chest? Does your face ever feel like its burning up?”

Cole nodded “all of those,” and added, “and hot filling warmth here.”

Varric eyed where the blond pointed and let out a surprised snort. “Ah,” was all he managed to say. He regarded the young rogue with a newly enhanced degree of respect. The boy felt more than he had initially thought possible and Cole wondered at how such a simple thing could please his friend.

“Is that a bad thing to feel?” he worried. a little.

“Definitely not, it’s just… unexpected.” Another small smile aimed to soothe. It worked.

“Is unexpected bad?”

He shook his head and chuckled lightly. “I guess we’ll have to start from the beginning…” and Varric continued, droning on and on about ‘birds and bees’ with explicit detail that left icy blue eyes wide in a mixture of awe and terrified excitement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [More Than The Stars](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10897573/1/More-than-the-Stars) Is an amazing Cole fic. Check it out and let the author know who referred you (in case they want me to take the link down). My screen name is the same on that website as it is on AO3.  
>  Does Varric seem in character? Did I capture his voice well enough? Let me know!  
> I adore all the comments/critiques, keep them coming!! You guys are awesome :D
> 
> Oh! Do you guys want to see a specific quest played out? Anyone want me to write a one-shot of Cole? Doesn't have to be related to this fic. Any and all ideas are welcomed and appreciated. Don't want readers to get bored.


	14. Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eventually Dorian's POV, Cole is missing.  
> EDIT: 2/14/2015 I completely butchered Leliana's name... please forgive me *bows low* If anyone catches something like that PLEASE tell me.

The embarrassing meeting with Vivienne ended abruptly when she received a letter requesting her presence in the war room. Curvy flowing script clearly belonging to Josephine graced the page and read, ‘a rather urgent matter of dire consequences awaits the Inquisitor’s immediate attention. Please have her make for the war room post haste’.

Gwen thanked the circle mage for the alcohol, promised to retrieve the wyvern heart within the next few days, and made a bee line for the stairs, thanking every god for foot wrappings as she made the hazardous descent. She narrowly avoided the newly (and incorrectly) placed throne and distracted, ran straight into the towering back of the Inquisition’s commander. Momentum had her sprawled indecently on the floor, legs and arms askew, as the thought ‘ _first Solas and now Cullen?… in this dress?!’_ flitted unbidden around her skull.

“Would you watch—“ Cullen’s eyes were pinched in annoyance when he turned but the words were lost when he took in the long red hair and emerald green eyes of the inquisitor.

Gwen hadn’t enough time to pull silky fabric back in place before those eyes latched onto her exposed form; she hid what she could with shaking hands and smiled awkwardly up at his increasingly reddening face.

She finally managed to cover an exposed thigh and hike silky fabric up to cover more of her breasts but struggled in an attempt to stand as her feet continuously slipped on the dress’ train. She let out of huff of annoyance; _dresses be damned._

“Here…” a large calloused hand briefly came into view before it grabbed her by the wrist and too easily pulled her up up up and into an accidental embrace. Her head swam and alcohol sloshed fitfully in an otherwise empty belly when she painfully crashed into the front of thick armor. For a brief moment a large warm hand touched the bare skin of her back before it was hastily pulled away and the distance between the two lengthened. That same hand came up to rub the back of a blond head, a nervous yet adorable habit, and he tried and failed to apologize with stuttering stops and starts.

They both jumped as a bang reverberated around the room, the sound suspiciously similar to that of a fist hitting a table, and she whirled in time to catch Varric’s sad expression. She thought she saw the reflection off the top of a wide-brimmed hat somewhere past the stairs of the main hall but there was no time to ponder when she quickly found herself pulled forward by the rough hand of an impatient scout.

Gwen’s bed remained empty for two days after that terribly embarrassing incident with the commander and no one had seen or heard of the former Spirit of Compassion since. One of Leliana’s scouts had news that Cole was last seen talking with Varric around the time of her encounter with Cullen. She couldn’t help but think back to Varric’s somber expression, the noise, the barely visible outline of an extremely familiar hat; she found it difficult not to blame herself for her favorite assassin’s absence. It left a hollow feeling in her chest. She found Cullen handsome and sweet but in an older brother kind of way and she assumed Cole was aware of that. _Maybe he didn’t know?_

\----

On the third lonely morning and for three empty days after that a suffocating darkness threatened to swallow the Inquisitor and she refused to meet the day in her normal manner. The kitchen lost no blueberry muffins, the gardens suffocated under the weeds, thirsty, and an unfamiliar silence filled the war room. She locked herself in her chambers, communicating only when absolutely necessary and solely via tear stained letters. Cole’s continued absence had her falling apart and her companions were powerless to stop it.

\----

Dorian fingered the gold lettering on the leather bound book he held in thought and leaned back in his chair by the window in the library. The calming scrape of plaster as Solas finished his latest fresco reverberated throughout the rotunda. Thoughts of another elf flitted around his head and the resulting pang of anxiety refused to let up. No one had seen the Inquisitor for nearly a week and Cole’s whereabouts continued to be a mystery. It was clear they shared feelings for each other and Dorian worried for the both of them. He needed to do something and with that he left the library in search of the last person to see the blond haired assassin.

Due to quite a few complaints of the dwarf’s permanent presence (and mess) in the main hall Josephine had kindly sanctioned off half her own office to make room for the busy man. A partition divided the two sides and a dwarf-height desk and chair were crammed, snug yet cozy, in the farthest corner. The contents on the desk were unchanged and as always the man sat surrounded by ink wells and crumpled pieces of paper.

“I have a question for you, if you would be so kind.” Dorian spoke in a polite, don’t-bullshit-me voice.

Varric was in the middle of pouring wax onto the fold of an envelope and firmly pressing a dowel to seal it. He fanned the envelope, blew on the wax, and lazily waved a meaty hand as if saying, _continue._

“Were you not the last person to speak with Cole?” blunt, to the point. There was no time for games.

The dwarf placed the newly sealed envelope onto a teetering stack on the corner of the desk and proceeded to grab another piece of parchment from a drawer. He licked the sharpened tip of a fresh quill, quickly dipped it into black ink, and began writing. “Not sure if I was the last,” a clipped response, attention focused on the parchment as he wrote another letter. Dorian eyed the stack of envelopes; there must have been at least fifteen sealed and ready to go.

Long, elegantly fingered hands splayed on the table as he leaned forward to garner more of the shorter man’s attention before he spoke. “You know where he is, I can see it in your blood shot eyes and rumpled shirt, which must be completely out of style even where you come from.”

Varric’s mouth twitched and he eyed the Tevinter mage in mock annoyance. “Even if I did it wouldn’t matter.”

“Do tell.” He quipped.

“Cole isn’t in Skyhold.” The man was already halfway down the page, nearly-illegible scribble practically burning through the parchment.

“Excuse me?” Was all he could say, shocked. “Cole left? Why?”

“He didn’t exactly leave. He said he needed some time to think about… things… and found it difficult to do so while in Skyhold.” Varric stopped and Dorian got the impression that was all he would get from the dwarf.

“You never thought to tell Gwendolyn?” a perfectly manicured eyebrow raised in question.

“She never asked,” was all he responded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another amazing Cole fic! [Pear Shaped Lover](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10989620/1/Pear-Shaped-Lover) I already asked for permission to share :)  
> The next chapter will be 10x better and possibly NSFW.


	15. Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hehehehe....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read at your own risk ;D

The dwarf told him that the new sensations he felt were completely normal but stopped short of telling him what to do about them. Varric gifted the blond rogue with a quite a few texts intent on teaching him just that and a comfortable silence fell upon the two as blue eyes slowly but greedily took in the contents of the first small green tinged tome. He picked it solely for the familiarity of the color, surprised that he hadn’t instinctually chosen the red. He shrugged it off and continued reading.

An hour had passed in silence until Cole felt rather than saw the inquisitor, surprised to feel tension and worry niggling in her mind, and before he had time to react her slim form collided with the Commander’s backside. It was the thoughts and images that ran through the older man’s mind as he took in her exposed form, flustered and helpless below him, which had his fists clenched. For the first time he understood the full extent of their meaning and he was startled, once again, by the anger he felt towards the golden eyed man.

“Varric… Why does he make me angry?” a strangled question, wide blue eyes searching, begging the dwarf for answers, information.

“Who, Curly?” a question, not the answer he so desperately needed. Blond hair covered haunted eyes when he nodded tersely.

Varric eyed the ex-Templar and understanding dawned on his face. Cole waited and gripped the table next to him when he saw a meaty grab Gwen by the wrist and pull her to him. Innocence, confusion, pain radiated behind hidden green eyes seemingly overshadowed by the desire, need, and want from the larger man that held her close. A hand rested on pale soft flesh for seconds too long.

A crunch was the only warning before the corner of the table crumpled beneath his hand. Blood seeped sluggishly from the splinters in his skin yet he felt no pain; he warred far too furiously with the urge to run. Cole wanted to both leave and physically hurt the man touching his Gwendolyn. He opted for abusing the table instead. He looked to Varric for guidance but was only rewarded with sad eyes as they searched his pale face. It all happened in seconds, a strong fleeting thought projected through his mind, _‘read the books and when you’re ready, come back.’_ Brown eyes reflected sadness but Cole took comfort in the little spark of understanding and muted joy in their depths.

A fist heavily collided with wood, he felt her fear, knew she searched the main hall for his presence, yet he stealth-walked (or rather ran) the rest of the way out the main hall and past the gates of Skyhold.

He walked the perimeter of the cold unforgiving mountain lost in thought for what seemed like hours before he returned through the gates with a grumbling stomach. He changed into his armor, grabbed rations, water, a padded bedroll, a tent, and strapped twin daggers to his back just in case. He stayed in the shadows, unseen, and was surprised to find Varric standing by the gates with a spritely black mare already saddled and ready to go.

“I had Solas cloak us. All anyone can see is an empty open gate.” The dwarf smiled softly.

Cole had nearly forgotten about the other mage, their last encounter tense and awkward, but silently thanked him anyway. He exited stealth, righted the bag on his back, and gracefully swung up on to the horse. He mumbled a terse ‘thank you’ and was gone.

\----

Cole was at least half a day’s journey from Skyhold when he stopped to let his mount rest and set up a temporary camp, his only plan to ride far enough to escape the howling winds and frigid cold of the mountains. The large animal drank greedily from a crystal clear stream and blue eyes watched the mare’s black thick hide change colors in the dwindling sunlight. Gwendolyn made it a habit to name each and every horse that entered the Inquisition’s stables and Cole faintly remembered the day when she named this one Ebony. It certainly fit.

He started a fire, cracked open the green book and read until the moon had risen high into the sky.

\----

Six days and he still couldn’t find the courage to return to her. He had devoured nearly all the books, some more descriptive and salacious, some purely informative, and found that he had a difficult time keeping her from his mind while he read. A large cacophony of adjectives and scenarios roiled about his mind ever since. He had no control over his emotions and actions and he feared he would do something regretful if he returned too soon.

He was forced to leave his original camp in order to find food and within a day had happened upon a small abandoned house snuggled deeply into the side of a mountain. It was a curious home, fully stocked with all manner of dried fruit and meat, and his instincts warred with his stomach. With every sense open he analyzed the area and discovered that the owner of the house, a human hunter, met an untimely demise two days earlier when he stumbled upon a mother bear with cubs. The bear was still close and the house had an adjacent fenced in awning. He tied the mare snugly to a nearby post and gated her in confident he would feel her panic if anything went amiss or the bear wandered too close to the house.

When the fire place roared and he was settled into an oddly cushioned but extremely comfortable chair he let his mind wander yet again. Cole had finished a silky purple book late last night and there was one passage that he couldn’t tear his mind from as they made their way through the forest. He had to cross reference the large leather bound dictionary to understand a few unfamiliar words and now that he understood he felt equal parts excited and frightened at the prospect of trying what he read. Fear won over and instead he decided to bury his nose into the book he saved for last, the highly anticipated red book.

_‘Make sure you’re alone when you read this one…’_

_‘Why?’_

_‘It’s best if you just take my advice for now.’_

Three chapters in and Cole understood. His face grew hot, his stomach felt tight, and he watched in muted horror as the slight bulge in his pants grew at an alarming rate. Desperately he tampered the fear, viciously reminding himself that he was still in control that this was _normal_ , this was _right_ but for some strange reason he also felt mildly embarrassed. His cock strained against the fabric, actually becoming quite uncomfortable and he shed the offending garment, kicking it off to the side, and untied the laces of his breeches. He sighed heavily at the loss of constricting pressure but startled slightly when his erection sprang free of its bindings. It was… larger then before and swollen.

He closed his eyes and imagined the scene as it happened in the red book but swapped hazel brown eyes for emerald greens and wheat colored hair for tresses the color of roses. It was exhilarating and fresh to think of Gwendolyn in such a way and he shivered deliciously at the scene playing behind his eyes.

The man in the novel had come across a beautiful women bathing in the pale moonlight and to his delighted surprise also touching down below. He had his erection out in a similar fashion as he watched the pleasure play upon her face.

_‘Supple breasts heaving, nipples taut as she worked at her core; a soft moan escapes her pink swollen lips as she continues to pleasure herself. She drags her other hand up her side to cup a breast and pinches a round peak between thumb and forefinger…’_

Cole was breathing heavily now, his cock throbbing painfully and slowly lowered a careful hand to grasp it firmly around the base. A bead of wetness swam at the tip and he pumped his shaft once to disturb the liquid with a thumb and cried out at the sensation. Mouth open and eyes wide he pumped his length once more and his hips jerked forward on their own. It was like nothing he had ever felt before and it was glorious. He experimented with different strokes, an image of Gwendolyn’s naked body etched into his mind, and settled on the one that brought the most pleasure. Within minutes his body was shuddering and covered in gooseflesh and his hips bucked with every torturous stroke. He felt something rapidly coiling below his shaft and gasped, head thrown back in bliss. He continued to pump his throbbing cock up and down up and down and cried out when the building pressure rose to its peak and a hot salty liquid shot forth to cover his naked thighs.

Shuddery breaths escaped and when he curiously thumbed his spend over the tip of his length he cried out, icy blue eyes rolled back, and hips jerked forward.

He sat there for a few minutes and waited until his heart returned to a normal rhythm and his body ceased its shuddering. Cole felt satisfied but also extremely worn out and tired. He cleaned up, grabbed a healthy portion of dried figs, laid out his bedroll and within minutes fell into a deep restful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was all snuggled up warm in my bed typing (completely clothed, mind you) and by the end of this chapter the blankets were thrown off and I was in a short sleeve shirt and underwear *fans self* I swear, 10 degrees hotter in here!!!
> 
> I have NO IDEA what masturbation feels like for a man. Hopefully I came somewhere close to the truth. If there are any dudes or ladies with explicit knowledge out there don’t be shy ;) Let me know, I swear it’s not creepy. I NEED IT FOR RESEARCH!!! If you don't feel comfortable leaving it in a comment my email is ezeccola@live.com. 
> 
> Also, today I learned that ‘spasmed’ isn’t a word. Tis a shame really. 
> 
> Happy Valentine’s day everyone ;) IF YOU ENJOYED THIS AT ALL PLEASE LEAVE A COMMENT/CRITIQUE I LOVE EACH AND EVERYONE OF YOU.


	16. Confusion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh. Real life kind of came up from behind and bit me in the ass. I have 3 major exams, a minor exam, and a lab report all coming up in the next week and a half. I haven't even been able to read any fanfics lately, it's killing me :'C
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter, even if it is extremely short. I just wanted to get something out there to let you know I'm still alive.

Cole slept dreamlessly and awoke perplexed to the sweet song of birds. Face warmed by sunlight he lazily eyed the dust motes that drifted carelessly through the air and waited for the memories to return to him. Icy blues searched the cabin and he stilled when they suddenly came back to him.

Cullen’s dark thoughts, anger, Varric’s books, red…

His face grew hot and he hazarded a look down at the ever present reminder of what had happened last night. His member strained at its prison once again, engorged and needy, and he wondered briefly at the embarrassment he felt. This would be one more thing he’d have to get used to and it bothered him slightly. He preferred control, aware of both body and mind, and this felt like a betrayal. There appeared to be a very small connection between his thoughts and his penis but it was never constant, seeming to have a mind of its own.

He sighed heavily and rose, formulating a plan to merely ignore it and hope it went away.

\----

Gwendolyn had slowly deteriorated over the week that Cole was gone. Dorian, sensing Varric’s ridiculous silence, had eventually assured her of the rogues’ plan to return but the man’s sudden lack of presence seemed to sting more than the entire Solas scandal. Everyone could tell she missed him dearly.

Dorian was once again in the library when the idea came about. The Inquisitor’s birthday was in a few days and he wanted to buy her something nice; the women desperately needed to leave her room and he had no idea what to get her. A shopping trip would be both the perfect distraction and solution to his problem; two birds with one stone as the saying went.

He hummed a familiar melody as he made his way down the rotunda stairs and to the Inquisitor’s bed chamber. Footsteps ceased when he reached the threshold and stopped to listen for any movement behind the door. Silence. Three light raps on her door and more silence. Had she finally left?

He knocked louder five more times and heard a loud splash sounding much like a large amount of water hitting the floor. “… any manners?!” she practically screamed, the beginning lost in incoherent mumbles as she hastily grabbed a too small linen towel to cover her lithe frame. The door finally opened to reveal a very flustered, soaking, and pissed off red-haired elf. Thick wisps stuck to her face and a pleasant flush covered the parts of her he could see.

She visibly deflated when green eyes locked on a familiar face. “Oh, it’s you…”

“Yes, it’s me.” A tan hand waved in her direction shooing her back into the room and he closed the door as he walked in.

A large amount of water _had_ been dumped out of the too-full tub and he quickly manipulated a small amount of heat to evaporate what he could.

“Did you mean to make a mess?” he asked, a small smile tugging at a full mouth. He found pleasure in wrenching trivial things out of the normally quiet inquisitor.

Green eyes narrowed slightly before she cryptically replied, “I always do what I mean to.” He took it for the dismissal that it was, earlier plan unraveling the longer calm brown eyes took in the ridiculously small tub. Curious.

“This is a servant’s bath.” He finally concluded, surprise clear in his tone.

“Excuse me?” green eyes widened in disbelief. Not wanting to offend her he quickly changed the subject.

“Perish the thought. How about you dress quickly and we leave this terribly drab establishment?” He rifled aimlessly through her closet, “clearly we need to spend the entire day together. My incredible fashion sense hasn’t had a time to rub off on you.”

He heard a soft sigh before he felt her presence beside him. “That side belongs to Cole.” He squeezed his eyes shut, cursing inwardly, before replying with an intelligent “ah…”

“No matter, do dress for warm weather. We shall convene once more at the entrance gates.” He replied flippantly, waving a hand dramatically in the air and making his way to the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is definitely coming to a close; I don't want to drag it out any longer.  
> Cole has definitely matured by leaps and bounds. He may be completely inexperienced but he's no longer clueless. Not sure if they should get together as soon as he returns to Skyhold though. Let me know what you guys think.  
> I have no editor/beta. It's just little ol me and your comments.


	17. Squeaky Clean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwen is away when Cole finally comes back.

Dorian’s idea of an outing proved to be enlightening. The smooth sheen that always seemed to radiate from his tan skin proved to be the result of frequent trips to a ‘heavenly place’ he had called his own. A little over an hour away from Skyhold nestled deep in the side of the mountain sat something the Tevinter mage referred to as a ‘hot spring’. He jabbered endlessly the entire journey and successfully kept her mind off of a certain blond rogue.

\----

Gwendolyn eyed the steam that rose from frothy water in apprehension. She had never seen anything of its kind before and it made her nervous; images of boiling skin, red and blistered, swam across her mind. Emerald greens took in the evidence of Dorian’s previous visits scattered around the perimeter; bottles of curious lotions, shampoos, oils, and conditioning agents dotted the small space.

“Ah, just as I left it.” She saw his face break into a large grin as he took in the familiar area; anything after was lost; her mind racing with possibilities. _Maybe his smooth complexion was a result of the excruciating act of burning and sloughing off skin repeatedly in order to let new skin grow back. No. That couldn’t be it. Dorian didn’t seem like the type to submit willingly to such pain. Why did he take me here?_

“I didn’t steal you away with torture in mind darling.” That damn eyebrow of his forever raised in question only added to his exquisite charm. “Here, smell this.” He came towards her with a small amber bottle and raised it to her nose. She sniffed hesitantly and a sigh escaped unbidden; it was pine-scented oil with a hint of lemon and reminded her of home. His moustache twitched when he smiled knowingly.

A too-soft hand encompassed a small calloused one and she was dragged bodily closer to the bubbling water. “I promise you of its safety. Quite heavenly, I assure you.” They stopped at its edge and let go of her hand to begin the tedious process of undressing.

“Wait, what are you doing?” Gwendolyn asked slightly panicked. Sure, Dorian liked men but he was still a man himself; a very well-built, tan, insanely attractive man.

He laughed, voicing incredulously, “Shall we bathe fully clothed? Lather our leathers with soap and oils? I think not.” He finished and eyed her up and down expectantly.

She stiffened, oddly on the defensive. “When you say it like that it sounds ridiculous.”

“Because it _is_ ridiculous.” He retorted, shirt off and working the buckles on his breeches. Brown eyes locked with emeralds when he caught her staring absently. He smiled knowingly, voice sarcastic, “If my body bothers you then look away. I’ll let you know when I’m properly concealed.”

She huffed and spun around to face the wall. Unbelievable that he had not turned nearly all the men of Skyhold to his side. A soft _splash_ and a contented sigh, he cleared his throat.

“Don’t look.” She snapped back, fear hidden behind feigned anger.

“Whatever you say _dreary_.” He replied smug, sarcastic, an attractive lilt turning simple words into saucy stanzas.

With her back to him she undressed quickly, clinically. A sigh escaped when her eyes took in the jagged scars that sat defiling the once preciously pure skin of her abdomen. Never before had she been haunted by feelings of physical inadequacy. Embarrassment stung, tiny pinpricks like falling into a patch of rose bushes.

“Gwendolyn?” a concern-laced voice interrupted hollow choking thoughts.

Trembling fingers to wipe away a lone tear, she turned around eyeing the ground. Hunched in she walked shamefully to the side of the hot spring, thin arms wrapped around to cover what she could. Finally a glance upwards at a face filled with pity and understanding. She had to look away; there would be no more tears today.

Gwen crouched on her heels, hesitantly submerging a hand to test the water. Before she could react a tan hand encompassed her own and unceremoniously pulled her head-first to join its twin.

A red mop came back up spluttering and coughing, eyes promising death and hair plastered haphazardly to an increasingly reddening face. Completely forgetting her nudity she stalked, hands raised threateningly, toward the mage. He raised his in surrender trying desperately to hide the smirk that threatened to break beneath a twitching mustache.

She huffed and ceased her advance. For the first time she noticed the warmth bubbling around her as it rippled gently above her belly button. Her gaze slowly traveled ahead and landed on the smooth bronze complexion of a finely sculpted waist. Taller than she by quite a few inches the water hardly covered the short patch of black hair below his navel. The natural rosiness brought on by the warm water proved to mask the blush that threatened to consume her.

A soft snort followed by a chuckle broke the unhealthy staring contest and she guiltily met his gaze.

“Find what you were looking for?” He found this extremely entertaining. “Never seen a penis before? Positively startling, actually, the ever-desired Inquisitor a virgin. Suppose I owe someone a few gold pieces. A shame, really.” He sat heavily on the make-shift stone seat that lined the inside of the hot spring. He looked up challengingly. She sat opposite him and took the bait for what it was.

“You can keep your gold pieces,” she replied solemnly and steadily met his gaze. She felt oddly comfortable despite the current situation.

His expression softened considerably. “Come here” he motioned to the seat beside him. “Let’s get you all pampered and perfect, shall we?”

Perhaps it was a result of his lack of reaction to her nudity or maybe the confidence he exuded from being in his own skin. Whatever the reason it made the evening pass far too quickly and much less awkward then she had anticipated.

\----

Cole’s swift trek back to Skyhold proved uneventful and he let the black mare instinctively lead them to the stables while he took in his surroundings. In his absence the number of loitering refugees had decreased and… an empty, hollow, unfinished taint permeated the air. Usually the Inquisitor’s aura radiated outwards, thin wispy tendrils unseeing but forever searching seeking to find his own but he couldn’t sense it. She was nowhere to be found. He worried a cracked bottom lip in thought. Elves were the easiest to see; they had a distinctive feel and exquisite song. Solas sang of sadness, regret from past transgressions, and of a desire to start over again. Gwendolyn’s song reminded him of an ethereal forest of many colors, interchanging, coalescing but always hidden behind a dense fog. Beauty and intrigue would shimmer from time to time but never enough to satisfy.

A soft whinny brought a shaggy blond head back down to earth only to realize how he remained foolishly in the saddle, the black mare kicking impatiently at the gate, staring at the empty stall. He dismounted quickly with pack in hand and opened the gate for the charming lady. The stall had all manner of goodies inside and he left the mare chewing happily on a speckled red apple.

Cole stopped by the kitchens and filled his own belly with druffalo stew. During his travels he had successfully mastered the skill of dissociating feelings from objects and as such eating meat no longer brought with it grim images or sensations. His body readily welcomed the much needed protein and when he had pleasantly stuffed himself to the ears he made his way to the public bathing chambers to wash away a week’s worth of sweat and grime.

Squeaky clean he climbed noisily up the stairs to the room he shared with the Inquisitor. Not even bothering to close the door behind him he flopped artlessly on the bed to fall asleep minutes later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another wonderful Colemance fic, [The Long Walk](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3355037/chapters/7339520)  
> Next chapter will most likely be the last. Still deciding whether or not to break it up into two separate chapters or keep it whole. Gwen will be mildly pissed off at Cole's absence but who can stay angry with that puppy face for very long? Will end in NSFW.  
> Any suggestions for the ending or Gwen's reaction are 110% appreciated. You guys are my beta's. I take your comments/suggestions into account when I write.


	18. Alluding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian and Gwen go shopping. Gwen finds Cole's book and reads it thinking it's his diary. She's never been so wrong before...

Marble tiles, luscious silk curtains, and furniture lined with gold filigree were common when traversing the shops of Val Royeux. Blushing rosy red at the memories of visits past Gwendolyn finds herself at the mercy of the Inquisition’s only necromage Dorian, ever steadfast in his plan to pamper the Inquisitor despite their disagreement on what exactly that meant.

\----

“Lingerie is a gift to men and women everywhere!” A tan hand rose instinctively to cover his heart.

Green eyes rolled at the mage’s dramatic antics. “lawn-jur-ay…” the foreign word awkward on her tongue, “appears to be highly inappropriate and impractical sleep wear. What if an assassin attacked during the night? There’s no room to hide a dagger.” She finished, pleased with her answer.

Dorian snorted, amused once again at the deliciously oblivious Inquisitor. At their very first meeting and for a few weeks after he assumed her naivety to be faked, a ploy to plant false seeds of power in the minds of her adversaries; he knew better now. Instead, their little green-eyed rogue proved to be naturally blunt, sarcastic, and when it came to sophisticated matters of the bedroom, blissfully naïve. The red silk bra and panties he saw in her closet earlier looked like a hobo’s snot rag compared to what could be found lying around the shop.

“There’s only one assassin you need concern yourself with.” He walked to a large table wedged deep in the corner. “Said assassin may very well enjoy…” The words trailed off silky-smooth as he fingered a long dress of sheer emerald fabric.

She trudged on despite the embarrassment that seemed to settle under her skin. “Said assassin has no desire for frilly… silky… things.”

A manicured brow raised in question. “Is that your assumption or did he address you directly?”

Blanching at the memory, “He merely remarked on the color, nothing more. It was red…”

“Oh I’m well aware of the piece.”

“What?!”

“I saw it in your closet.” He bluntly confessed.

“Oh…” she deflated and an awkward silence followed.

“That dress matches your eyes most graciously.” The smooth baritone of a reed-thin shopkeeper interrupted the pair. Mortified she turned to face the man. He was short and wore the usual gaudy gold-trimmed outfit that seemed to be the norm in Val Royeux.

“We have a changing room if you wish to try it on.” A mask concealed all but a small nose and dimpled smile.

“We’ll purchase it directly.” Dorian replied and stepped in front of the flustered Inquisitor.

“Splendid!” The man replied happily and petite gloved hands clapped once enthusiastically. “I’m sure you will look divine!”

\----

By the time the two reached Skyhold the sun had settled low in the sky and bathed the grounds in an ethereal pink-orange glow. They went their separate ways soon after passing through the gates. Gwendolyn made a beeline for her quarters.

Their little ‘date’ proved to be more exhausting than her very first trip through the Hinterlands and heavy feet made the treacherous journey up the stairs. Her body relaxed and clean she couldn’t help but sigh at the silky soft tickle of hair around her shoulders. Nearly all of the calluses on her feet and hands had been relentlessly scrubbed and she marveled at the new baby soft skin underneath. She felt like a spoiled elvhen princess.

Upon reaching the threshold she immediately noticed the open door and cautiously stepped into the room.

Cole lay in a heap of covers, mouth open and breathing heavily, with a hand thrown above his head. He looked adorable and peaceful yet she couldn’t help the anger that curled around her at the sight of him. His mysterious disappearance had shattered the frail workings of her heart and left her practically worthless to the Inquisition.

Her eyes caught on a red book haphazardly thrown on the bedside table and she fingered it curiously. Her attention flicked back to the sleeping rogue and back to the book. She smiled mischievously at her delicious plan of revenge. Maybe his personal journal would help explain his sudden disappearance?

\----

Blue half-lidded orbs picked out shapes in the ceiling. Waking up was always a slow process. He found that if he tried to sit up too quickly black splotches would skitter across his vision and cause a filling numbness to permeate his mind.

Still groggy his eyes eventually adjusted to the dim light of the setting (rising?) sun and he was momentarily startled to see the dark outline of a slim figure’s back at the Inquisitor’s desk. Minutes passed until he could sense the stranger’s aura.

She felt different; a song of sadness, regret, and nearly-lost hope radiated out, a sickly sweet melody ringing to pierce the haze. _His fault…_ this change. His disappearance, his cowardice, his need to _understand_ had caused this pain… deep like claws razor sharp sinking into vulnerable flesh. He brought a shaky hand to hide a pale face in shame. He took a deep breath to steady his frantically beating heart. Minutes that seemed to stretch into hours passed before he worked up the courage to address her.

He sat up in bed. He wanted to hold her, take away the pain, the regret, the sadness that settled disease-like in her mind but a small sound had him frozen in place.

A soft whimper escaped Gwendolyn’s rosy lips before she could bring a hand up to stifle it.

Surprised he filtered through the abundance of negative feelings knocking about and nearly choked when he recognized the scene playing out behind brilliant greens. _The red book…_

Desperate blue eyes searched the room for any sign of the aforementioned book and when they came up empty he stilled. _She was reading his book._

He felt _mortified_ (embarrassment too soft of a word) that his Light was reading the tome meant solely for him.

“Gwendolyn…” his voice sounded more choked than he would have wanted. He needed her to stop.

At the sound of her name her head whipped around with an expression similar to that of getting caught with a hand in the cookie jar. She dropped the book and turned to face him. Her eyes narrowed.

“Cole.” Her voice came out harsh and he felt her anger, fuming, red-faced, barely concealed anger roiling beneath the cold mask she wore. He gulped.

And yet he found himself staring. Despite her anger he couldn’t help but admire her beauty; it felt like forever since he last saw her. Pale skin flushed and rosy, her hair appeared softer than ever and he longed to run willowy calloused fingers through the red tresses. He hadn’t known how much he craved her presence.

“I’ve missed you.” He bluntly confessed.

Taken aback she merely stared, the anger from before dissipating slightly, and replied with a brisk ‘hmph’.

Her emotionless dismissal stung and he stared at the ground near her feet. Year’s seemed to pass and the war inside her head continued to rage. Finally, she muttered to the wall, “I missed you too…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is definitely the last. I broke it up into two becaaaaause... My favorite # = 9 but also because I want to know if you think Gwen should be more pissed/make Cole wallow a bit more in his guilt.  
> Honestly the next chapter will start out with NSFW unless the majority wishes for more Cole angst (even though I'm terrible at it)  
> [EDIT 2/27/2015] I nearly forgot! This is another great Colemance fic [Progression](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3252623/chapters/7089515)


	19. Fin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW!  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for all the oh-my-goodness-is-she-ever-going-to-update?! feels.  
> Hopefully it was worth the wait!

A smile tweaked the corner of his mouth at her stubborn confession.

Time crawled awkwardly along until he noticed her nose buried deep in the book once more. A sudden whispered voice pierced the heavy silence, startling him.

“Have you read this?” He could sense the abject curiosity that boiled nearly uncontrollably behind the question.

“Yes.” It was the truth. He never lied and she knew. “I like Chapter Nine the most.”

Green eyes widened before they were obscured by a sheet of crimson. The crisp scuffle of pages as she searched became lost behind the noise of a creaking mattress adjusting to the changing weight. Silent bare feet came to a halt beside the desk.

He waited, body tensed and barely breathing, for the moment when her eyes would fall on the part he most wanted her to read. It wasn’t long until he was rewarded by a soft intake of breath, a whispered ‘oh…’. Her scarred face came up to meet a steady gaze, a worried lip caught between teeth, and he searched those twin endless orbs for something akin to acceptance. He _needed_ her to understand; words tended to fail him in delicate situations and he couldn’t risk messing everything up.

After what felt like hours her face suddenly softened and she rose to stand in front of him. Her beauty proved a distraction and fluttering like bird wings his thoughts wandered.

Originally his response to Varrc’s confusing question of his ‘type’ had been ‘Gwendolyn’. With more background knowledge gained through secret letters during his absence he now somewhat understood what the dwarf meant. Maybe the inquisitor had always been his type but with her everything seemed different; he felt nothing when he gazed at other women, those short in stature with a curvy waist, red-haired, and green-eyed. Even with similar features no one else could affect his mind and body like she did.

Exposing a pale delicate neck she craned to peer into his eyes. “Is that really how you feel?” he felt a small hand touch the exposed skin of his bicep. They were close and when she shifted her weight to the other foot a hip brushed against his thigh.

He shivered at the touch and brought a large calloused hand to thumb the scar on her pale face. _So close…_ bent slightly at the waist he paused a breath away from her lips. Her neck craned uncomfortably and she stepped on tip-toes to close the gap.

Their lips met awkwardly; he felt hers move expertly but completely inexperienced his remained tight lipped and still. He panicked, embarrassment and inadequacy creating a deafening crescendo in his ears, and he couldn’t help but wonder if he had failed her somehow. He had seen others kissing before… they made it look so easy.

She smiled underneath his frozen lips and pulled back far enough to grab his attention.

Soothingly she whispered and thumbed the thin skin of his lower lip. He took a steadying breath and their lips met. The intimate contact made it increasingly difficult to stay out of her head and his concentration slipped completely when a moist tongue teased its way between weather-worn lips.

Images, thoughts, and sensations bombarded his awareness forcing him to gasp and turn away.

Worried as if she had done something wrong she tried to apologize but the words were lost in a mind instinctively filtering through new information.

 _Soft and sweet like cherries he feels_ right, _strong arms and the way he towers over me_. _Can’t be mad, wanted this for so long… still can’t believe he read_ that _book. How much does he know?_

She shifted from one foot to the other, impatiently waiting for some sort of sign. When icy blues focused once more they found a pink-faced inquisitor staring back.

“You ok?” a slight nod.

“I’m sorry.” he turned bodily to face her “I ruined the moment.” She smiled, shrugged, and proceeded to toe at the floor.

Earlier embarrassment forgotten his face lit up.

She squeaked when he grabbed her with one hand behind the knees and one bracing her shoulders to carry her easily to the bed.

The fluffed mattress groaned familiarly under the weight of two people when he settled down next to her. He wanted the feel of her lips again, of that soft surprisingly strong muscle in her mouth. He wanted to taste her, to lavish her body with attention, to make her cry out in ecstatic pleasure. Varric had said it was a natural thing to want and Cole was done with second guessing.

Propped up on an elbow he brought feverish lips to hers once more. A hesitant tongue lashed out, licking a plump bottom lip in question, and a war broke out when they finally met. He couldn’t help the moan that escaped when she took his slick muscle into her moist cavity and sucked. Breathing heavily now the steady growing pressure in his groin would begin to feel uncomfortable. He wanted her to touch him similar to how he had touched himself many nights ago. The act had been repeated several times in the book but there were never any details on how it all started. Frustrated he deepened the kiss placing a large calloused hand at the base of her scalp and willed the kiss alone to satisfy his never ending lust.

He moaned when a hip brushed against his throbbing shaft and her eyes round like brilliant emeralds finally noticed the large bulge nestled between them. A small hand approached his need far too slowly and eager hips bucked forward to grind against it. She rubbed his erection through too tight pants and he rutted shamelessly for more friction. It wasn’t _enough_ , he needed more.

As if sensing the pent up frustration he carefully concealed behind normally placid features she pushed him down to lie on his back and crawled to kneel by his feet. He practically ripped his shirt off in his haste to obey her softly spoken demand and strangled the sheets between clenched fists in anticipation. He very much wanted to experience what he assumed came next. She looked feral and beautiful when she crawled forward to rest between his thighs and no matter how many times he played the scene through his head nothing could compare to what was real.

It took every bit of strength to remain quiet when a soft hand palmed his erection only to leave it cold and wanting as it left to caress the skin of his stomach and chest. He closed his eyes and breathed evenly in an attempt to slow himself down but there was so much he wanted to do, so much to do and he wanted it all _now._

_Take control…_

A large hand wrapped securely around a small delicate wrist and he wrenched the petite woman closer. With fistfuls of hair he yanked her head back to suck mercilessly at the nape of a thin neck. She moaned when a hot mouth nibbled along the edge of a sensitive ear and gasped when sharp teeth possessively marked pale ivory with enough force to bruise.

_Yes! Mark her, she is yours!_

Sickly sweet a voice dripping with promise and power rang through a clouded mind. A feeling of momentarily spiraling in midair; he froze with a hand still embedded in crimson waves. Seconds passed but he remained still.

“ _Cole…?_ ”

The feeling of weightlessness fractured and shaking he found himself viciously dragged back down. Fear skittered across cold blue eyes and he loosened his grip on her hair.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you.” A quick check and he knew she had enjoyed his uncharacteristic roughness but he found no real satisfaction in mixing pleasure with pain. He would never intentionally hurt her and it was terrifying to think he did so without meaning to.

With her hair free, eyes glazed over and breathing heavily, she continued her exploration of the wide planes of his upper body trailing soft kisses in her wake. He still couldn’t shake his anxiety. If he wasn’t careful he felt her so fragile he could break her with a flick of his wrist.

The feel of small deft fingers working the lacings of his constricting breeches made it difficult to concentrate on much else and the hands that had returned to his sides instinctively clenched at silk sheets.

He sighed in relief when his erection _finally_ sprang free of its constricting prison and his body visibly tensed when petite hands wrapped around him. She would have needed both to fully cover his length and their small size made him feel larger once again reminding him of fragility.

He had a scary inkling of her finding out that he ‘even for a second’ thought of her as weak and she would surely flog him like she had The Iron Bull… all thoughts immediately evacuated when he saw the look in her eyes.

Those glazed over emeralds whispered dark promises that made his body tingle in all manner of new places as she began to work him. Breathing heavily his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides his entire body felt bathed in waves of heat. She slowly came to a stop and brought her mouth to him; red plump lips encompassed the head of his shaft and he gasped at the delicious but foreign sensation; wet and warm as she attempted to consume him.

“Ahh…!” she somehow created an exquisite suction as she worked that threatened to drive him to insanity and the familiar tightening in his groin sounded off a warning bell of an incoming climax.

“Gwen…!” he didn’t want it to end so soon!

Wetness and warmth stopped abruptly and he felt a harsh pressure squeeze the base of his shaft. He winced at the uncomfortable sensation of his climax subsiding and stared at the culprit wide-eyed.

Flushed and rosy she merely shrugged guiltily, “sorry…” He could tell she really wasn’t but it didn’t bother him much.

With an arm circled around her waist he rose quickly and fell forward effectively hovering over her prone form. Crimson waves radiated out like a sunburst… she had never appeared more ethereal or beautiful

“You’re amazing.” He couldn’t help but narrate.

Slowly a smile lit up her scarred face before it was replaced by a deviant smirk and a different cold wetness caressed his member. He hissed out a breath and looked down.

“ _Oh…_ ”

Intrigued he kneeled between her knees to inspect the source; she had soaked through her breeches and it had gone cold with neglect. With help he managed to shimmy her breeches and underclothes down and off and did the same with his own. Giddy with excitement and curiosity he slid a single finger up her slit and nearly jumped at the low moan that seemed to shatter the silence. He caught her gaze, half-lidded and aroused, and continued his ministrations.

By the end of his experiment he was lapping at her slick folds with an eager tongue while she rocketed through an orgasm and clenched around his fingers. His cock dripped with pre-cum and he moaned when a thumb circled the liquid around his sensitive tip.

_Wet, warm, and wanting she wants me inside of her._

He grabbed the backs of her muscled thighs and crawled forward until his cock hovered above her entrance; he heard a whimper of anticipation.

Was he ready? He wanted this to mean something like what it meant to the characters in the book. He wanted her all to himself. She would make love with him alone and never forget him like so many had before. Could he ask her to stay by his side? _Would she?_

Soft fingers tickled when they lightly traced the wide planes of his stomach.

“I love you.” He blurted.

He would forever remember this moment, the moment when she smiled genuinely and repeated the words he never knew he needed to hear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did ya think? May or may not write more of Cole and Gwen's sexcapades. It'll honestly depend on the feedback I get from this last chapter. 
> 
> I will miss all my lovely readers! If you want to get in touch you can email me at ezeccola@live.com or check out my [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/ladystoic). 
> 
> A few Colemances I forgot to mention:  
> [Newfound](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3305828/chapters/7220564)  
> [Compassion and Pride](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10994243/1/Compassion-and-Pride)  
> (There is no particular order for which I recommend fics)


End file.
